Back from Montreal (Part 2)

I am not a violent person.

Honest I'm not.

And while the guys on my hockey team may not immediately spring to my defense, I am not hot-headed. I know I have a bit of a temper, but I would like to think that it takes quite a bit of stupidity on some other person's behalf to get my blood boiling.

But last night during the Peter Gabriel concert I came as close as I have ever come to getting into a major beatdown of a fight.

My wife and I were out with our friends at Bell Centre. We'd had a brilliant day with our friends and my anticipation and excitement had been building as the concert got closer and closer.

The opening act did a short little two song number and then Peter Gabriel opened with "Heroes". There was a huge orchestra accompanying him and the conclusion of the first song promised a special evening.

And after the applause finished I noticed out of the corner of my eye that my wife was talking to the guy sitting beside her. And while I couldn't hear what they were saying, I could tell by her body language that something was very wrong.

They finished talking and I turned to my wife to ask what was going on. Initially she just shook her head. I again asked her what was wrong. And then she told me.

The man sitting next to her had told her to shut the fuck up. He said that she had screamed and it hurt his ear and she better shut the fuck up or there would be problems.

I didn't know what to say. I was completely taken aback. Shocked. I had heard her cheer at the end of the song, but everyone had cheered. She was no louder than anyone else around her.

What was worse was the look on her face. She was pale. With shock. With anger. And she looked very tiny, as if his words had drained her and diminished her. And I think she was hurt that her whole wonderful day and the concert itself had just been shattered by what this big, bulky Australian hat wearing man had said to her.

I asked her to switch seats with me. She refused. Said said she was fine.

We sat in silence for a minute. I then asked her again. I said, "Please, do me the courtesy of switching seats with me. I do not want you sitting next to that man." She looked fragile as she nodded her agreement. I could sense that moving seats would mean that in some tiny way that the man would have won, but it just did not make any sense for her to continue to sit next to him.

We waited until the song was finished. And then we switched seats.

My heart was been beating so hard that I thought that it was going to rip out of my chest. As I had been waiting for the song to finish I was studying where we were seating and I was trying to figure out what I would do if this guy started a fight: where I would move, how I would attempt to throw/drag/grab him, how to handle the guy in such a way to humiliate him and cause him pain without hurting anyone around us.

I then sat beside him. I leaned then over to him. And I said, "Did you actually say what my wife said you did?"

He looked at me and told me to watch the show.

So I repeated myself. A little more forcefully this time. I asked, "Did you say what my wife said you did, you Fuck? Because if you did, you owe her an apology. You Fuck."

He looked at me, asked me if I paid for the concert and then said that I should be quiet and watch the show.

Again I said, "You don't get it -- did you say that shit to my wife? You Fuck."

He tried to be cute. "Sorry, I can't hear you in this ear because of your wife's screaming."

Oh my god I was simply not in the mood for that sort of shit. But I kept my fire simmering. I did not boil over. I did not lose my cool. I did not scream at him or grab him.

"Fine," I replied. "Let me try your other ear." And I leaned across his fat, sweaty chest and said into his other ear, "Did you say what my wife said you did, you FUCK?"

He looked at me and said, "If you keep this up, you are going to end up in the police station."

At this point I looked over at the woman who was with him at the concert. Leaning across him, blocking his view of the concert, I said to her, "Is he always this rude to people? Does he always talk to women like this at concerts?"

She looked tired. Either she was used to this sort of behavior or she was shocked at what he had said and did not want to have any more problems. She asked me to please just let it go.

He looked at me and said, "You don't talk to her."

And with that, I finally had his attention.

So I said to him, "I *am* talking to her. You talked to *my* wife and now *I'm* talking to yours. And now I'm telling you what you are going to do. At the end of the concert you are going to apologize to my wife. You are going to say to her, 'I'm very sorry for being an asshole.'

"No, you know what -- you don't even have to say it like that. You can just say, 'I apologize for what I said. I was out of line. And I hope I didn't ruin the concert for you.' You are going to apologize to my wife. You FUCK. Do you hear me? Do you understand me?"

He looked at me. He must have been sizing me up. Thinking about his options.

And I did not know which way it was going to go. What he was going to do.

And finally he said, "I can do that."

"Good," I said.

And with that I sat back and watched the concert with my wife. I was tense. I was jumpy. And I still wasn't sure what he might do. But my wife then took hold of my hand and I relaxed. And then we did our best to enjoy the show.

Peter Gabriel performed the entire "Scratch My Back" album and there was an intermission as he said they'd be back in 15 minutes.

We all stood up. The guy's wife walked past us. And he was standing beside me.

He then leaned ever so carefully past me and extended his hand to my wife. And he said, "I want to give you my heartfelt apology. What I said was rude and completely uncalled for. I'm on the wrong side of three time zones, but that is no excuse for what I said. I was wrong and I completely apologize for my earlier actions. And I can only hope that it hasn't ruined the concert for you."

And my wife shook his hand and accepted his apology. It was, to be honest, the most sincere and polite apology I had ever heard. And this coming from a man who had been so very, very rude.

My wife and I then turned to our friends and she explained what had happened and why the man had apologized. The four of us then walked down the stairs to stretch our legs and get a drink.

But before we went too far I turned around and walked back to him.

I extended him my hand to him and said, "Thank you for doing that. I appreciate it."

And we shook hands and he again apologized for his actions.

And that was that. It was finished. Nothing more needed to be said.

I walked down and re-joined my wife. We went and bought a ridiculously over-priced bottle of water. She commented on his apology and asked me what I had said to him.

And I told her all of the details of the foul-mouthed in-his-face conversation. All of it. Every little bit. I was not kind to myself in its depiction.

My wife was shocked at what I had said to him. And probably more than a little surprised that the guy had apologized as earnestly as he did after the conversation/confrontation that he and I had shared.

She said that she hadn't wanted me to sit next to him because she had been worried I was going to say something to him. I told her that it didn't make any sense for her to keep sitting next to him. I said that it was the right thing for me to do when I sat next to him. And she told me that she appreciated what I had done. And that it was good of me to defend her honour.

We went back. The concert continued. It was a wonderful evening. It had had just that one little hiccup. But it worked out fine.

Because I am not a violent person. I am not hot-tempered.

But no one talks to my wife like that.