the bike lock story

I was biking home from the gym today, holding my bike lock in my had, when I saw what I thought might be some sort of domestic dispute between a young couple.  As it turns out, they were just play fighting but for a moment there I thought I might have had to go upside this dude's head with a u-lock. 

Here is the little scene in my stupid head that I wrote in that fleeting moment:

Dr. Ken: Hey, buddy.  Why don't you leave the little lady alone
(little lady is kind of demeaning and sexist, but that's just how old fashioned chivalrous types talk)

Man: Just stay out of this, Lance Armstrong.  This doesn't concern you.  Or your one nut.

Dr. Ken: It certainly doesn't involve Lance's testicle, so yeah, we'll leave that out, but it does concern me now because there is no way I'm leaving without . . . doing something.  Are you okay, miss?

Woman: No.  I'm not.  He's an asshole and he's drunk and mean. 

Man: You shut your stupid mouth, woman!  And let me and Armstrong finish our conversation.
(This is kind of how stereotypical wife beating types talk, I think)

Dr. Ken: Listen, why don't we just put you two in a cab and call it a night.

Man: Sure.  We could do that.  Or I could whip the ever-loving tar out of your stupid hipster ass.

the man begins to roll up his sleeves and walk towards Dr. Ken in a threatening manner

Dr. Ken: (stepping off his bike and wielding his bike lock) Think this through.  I don't want to clock you with this bike lock, and you don't want to get hit with one. 

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The truth of the matter is that I would probably just pull around the corner and call the police.  If I did opt for the U-Lock beating, I would likely miss with a piss-poor flailing attempt and get beat up.  Probably the girl would even get a few licks in, and they would resolve their differences by agreeing that I'm a giant pussy.

Scene:

Jackson and Maya run in the same social circle and have been falling in love with one another over the past few months, and at this point, they have always stopped themselves at kissing. The only problem is, Maya is engaged to another man. The two have agreed to back off from one another until she has figured her situation out, as she says she's not being fair to all three people - something Jackson agrees with, but on this night, in a crowded bar, after numerous drinks, he just couldn't take it anymore.

The two keep sharing glances that alternate between smiles, looks of desperation, and looks of outright sadness. Suddenly, Jackson plays off like he's walking past her to go to the bathroom, but instead, he takes her hand, and leads her to a corner of the bar where they can talk. Granted, it's still loud from the music, but there is slightly less screaming and lousy singing there from the clientele.

Maya: Jackson, I can't.

Jackson: No, don't worry because I didn't pull you over to plant a kiss on you, although I'd be lying if I said I wasn't thinking of it all night.

Maya: Yeah, me too, but . . .

Jackson: Well, don't worry about it because I'm a man of my word. Yes, I think this guy is a tremendous asshole, and an asshole that seems unwilling to change, and the brand of asshole destined to make you miserable - but here's the thing: I said I would "back off," and I am. I just want to know a few things because I can't just move on until this thing is settled. I can't go on thinking "what if."

Maya: Okay, what do you need to know.

Jackson: I have been thinking that maybe we've been idealizing each other because of our respective situations - because we know we can't go through with it. But, maybe we'd never work out to begin with. Maybe there is a big fat deal breaker that we haven't even thought of. For instance, when one person is a lousy kisser, everyone knows a suck-ass kisser is game over, but that's not a problem for us. In fact, that seemed pretty damn incredible on this end . . .

Maya: Yes. No problems there.

Jackson: Right . . . So, I thought of a few others that might spell disaster, and that way I can move on.

Jackson unfolds a crumpled up piece of paper that he has to stand awkwardly to pry out of his jeans pocket.

Maya: I guess you have given this some thought.

Jackson: Yes. I think about you all the damn time. I have "backed off" really effectively, per your request, and I've been all business around you, so you can't even tell, but you're on my mind constantly. You're absolutely killing me.

Maya: Yeah. I think about you too, but . . .

(Brief pause)

Jackson: So, number one, are you like a die hard Republican? It's not a subject that ever came up, but if you have extremely right-thinking politics, like you hate homosexuals or certain ethnicities, that would gross me out to no end.

Maya: (Laughs) No. I'd say I'm pretty liberal, Jackson, so that's out. What else ya' got?

Jackson: Damn it! Next up, where do you stand on religion because I'm an agnostic bordering on atheist, and it's highly unlikely that I'll ever "find God," so if you're looking for a religious guy, that's just not happening.

Maya: I think we have talked about this, and I'm pretty sure I told you that I was raised Catholic, God's a part of my life, but I don't go to church to talk to him.

Jackson: Aha! But would it bother you if the person you're with for the rest of your life is a non believer, and would you raise your kids Catholic?

Maya: No and no.

Jackson: Well, shit and shit!! Next up . . .

Maya: Stop right there. I completely get what you're doing, but I don't think finding one of these deal breakers is going to help you with whatever you're going through here.

Jackson: Well, how do you know? And don't say it's just me going through it because we know that's not true. Now, come on, I only have eleven more.

Maya: No, I'm not doing this anymore.

(Maya starts to leave and Jackson jumps in front of her)

Jackson: Wait, first off, you're saying you get why I'm doing this, but I'm not sure you do. I'm in love with you, and I can't keep seeing you and not tell you this. The reason I want to find a way that we can't possibly work is because I can't move on until I figure out you and I. I'm dating women, and I can't stand any of them because none of them are you. I'm trying with them. I'm sleeping with them, and that makes me feel even worse because my heart's never in it. My heart's with you. Okay, that sounded gay, but . . . I don't know, Maya - I just feel something, and I, like, never feel anything, and that has to mean something, right?

To be continued? Maybe, but that's all I have written right now.