Published by: MCR
Shared article: Roman Paschal
Buenos Aires, Argentina – Domingo 1/27/2019
A beautiful Sunday morning. Thirty minutes after this photo was taken, I walked to the grocery store to buy toothpaste. Two blocks from my apartment, as I was happily sipping on mate (a traditional herb drink), I hear something from behind. As I turn, a woman, jacked up on some drug, with a cut down the bridge of her nose, stumbles towards me slurring, asking to take a sip of my mate. I laughed, say “no”, and turn to continue on my way. More surprise for me, she tugged at my left shoulder aggressively and again asked for my mate. I forcefully shrugged her off repeating “no!” Brazenly, she reached for the gourd. I jerked it away cursing! This bitch swung on me hitting me in the back of the head. I cocked my hand back to bash her, but hesitated. I didn’t want to punch her, her blow was feeble. My ego was damaged more than my head. But this bitch had stones! She swung on me again, same blow, struck me on the side of my face. Reflex took over, my fist shot out striking her dead in the face. The blow sent her flying backwards and sliding onto the pavement. My right eye picked up something racing towards me just off my peripheral vision. A man with fire in his eyes was charging at me!
PAUSE – Reflecting, I am soooooo DISGUSTED with myself for not noticing these two as I was walking. An absolute rookie move on my part! Since yesterday I have had something weighing heavy on my mind. No Excuse!
So this guy is charging at me raring to throw a punch. My adrenaline spikes and I dive at him throwing a blow that pounds his left cheek. He falls back going down to one knee. He’s wildly grabbing at me and I’m standing over him swinging like a maniac! Absolute madness in my heart! Rage overflowing! I’m throwing bombs as hard as I can, each one aiming for his face. I must have got off six shots but because my rage and adrenaline where so uncontrolled, I landed only two cleanly. And then BAM! His bitch dives at me knocking me back into a car. The guy quickly gets to his feet and hurls himself at me. Now I’m battling two! I’m off balance, she’s grappling at me, and he’s swinging. I toss her away and focus on him, now matching him blow for blow.
PAUSE – Another rookie move! I should have focused on dispatching him first!
Yet again, I do myself a ridiculously poor injustice. My rage so volcanic, my fury so unbridled as I swing, always going for his face, married to the thought of knocking him the FUCK OUT, I miss my best shots! His blows? I felt none, ineffectual. Many times he was actually trying to grab, and wrestle me rather than punch. To his credit, like a rabid animal, he kept coming! For one of the blows, I switched the gourd (wooden receptacle containing the mate) to my right hand and smashed it into his face. He goes down, but pops right back up! Three times I put him down, and three times he sprung up for more! Cocaine/Whatever illegal substance these two were jacked up on is a hell of a drug! This was a straight brawl! I assure you, no exaggeration! In the middle of the street!
The woman came at me again and the three of us are viciously swinging blows! My ears register police sirens. I separate myself from the two and look behind me. A police car is blazing up the street! Three more quickly join. This is when I feel fear. I’m in a foreign country with not a perfect command of the language. My male assailant quickly goes over to a police officer and pleads his case. Two officers come over to me and I start speaking in jumbled words. Adrenaline has not dissipated and my mind is racing! My fear grows as I assuredly do not trust a word of what my attacker is saying to the police officer.
Credit humanity. People began coming out of their apartments and speaking up for me, explaining to the police officers I was an innocent bystander and the couple attacked me. The police kept me a brief time and let me go. I declined going to the station and filing a report. I didn’t want to waste the beautiful day. HOWEVER!!! I did lose an expensive pair of shades I bought in Cape Town, South Africa last December and the Bombilla (the straw-like apparatus used to drink mate). Both somehow vanished! DAMMITT!!
I am actually glad this happened. You need some adversity to balance the absurdly joyful journey the Road Less Traveled has been. Also, I severely rebuke myself for not ending this guy inside of ten seconds. I am not trying for bravado here. In a fight you have more time than you think. You hear it when athletes talk about how the game, “slows down for them.” I did myself a disservice letting my anger run amok. If you can calm emotions and punch with purpose, devastation and victory follow shortly thereafter. If danger comes again, I will think more clearly.