The Way it Happened

The Defender

Me and Topaz went to this fancy restaurant, one of them with the low lights, candles in little glasses on tables covered in white cloth and clean cutlery wrapped in napkins. My treat.

A handsome man in a penguin suit greets us when we walk in arm and arm.

"Do you have reservations?" He asked.

"Yes indeed. Mr. Harry Smith." I use my proper voice. Topaz chuckles.

He waves and a clone of him takes his place behind the tall desk.

"This way." He grabs menus.

Topaz and I are flying high following him. The dining room is full, but there's a table waiting for us. Handsome pulls out a chair for Topaz, she sits slowly with her bottom sticking out, her newly dyed hair and red flower clip stunning. He does the same for me, hands us menus, and tells us the specials. When he leaves, Topaz claps. "Mr. Harry Smith, I feel like a Queen."

A young man rushes over, filling our glasses with water. She's overwhelmed when the waiter comes to take our order. I decide.

Steak and lobster for us both and a bottle of white wine, but Topaz wants something fizzy. Bubbles make her burp.

We're playing footsie while the waiter pours wine. Topaz lifts her head and squints. The waiter moves and a dude wearing a stupid smirk, following the penguin suit, is ogling her. He gets right up to our table, notices me, and shifts like nothing happened. I would not let him disrespect me.

"Hey! Why you staring at my girl?" I asked in my regular voice.

The dude stops walking, looks at me, and laughs.

"You must spend a lot of time drunk if you think she's a girl." He turns to leave.

I call him a bad name. People gasp. I shouldn't have used the word, but he got me worked up. Topaz is the best. She would do anything for me. I had to defend her honor.

He comes back, eyes bulging, yelling obscenities close to my face like a madman.

I get out of the chair, knocking over the wine. My fist balled at my side. He continues to yell, his spit hits my cheek. Reason to slug him.

A beautiful woman with a red flower in her hair like Topaz walked up to him, touches his arm, and asked if his name was Lance.

He nodded, gave her a quick once over, and said he'd be with her shortly, had to take care of me first.

"The last person who called me that name didn't live long." He advanced.

I planted my feet, reared back, and swung. The penguin chose that moment to step between us. My left cross caught him behind his ear. He fell into the guy, who grabbed him and tossed him into me. I wobbled but righted myself by pushing the penguin away. He crashed into the next table. Chaos. People ran screaming. Next thing I remember, the fuzz steering us to a back office.

The Contender

I hated blind dates. The few I've been on, something goes wrong. Those were my thoughts when entering the restaurant. At the podium, I told the host I'm meeting a woman with a red flower in her hair. He summons a look-a-like who escorts me through the crowded dining room. Ahead, I spot a woman with a red flower. A server is standing at the table. Without my glasses and from that distance I get an adrenaline rush, hoping it's not my date. As we drew closer, the server steps away. Whew! She's with someone.

I gaze at her for a few seconds. She frowns. The brute sitting with her says in a rough voice, "What you doing staring at my girl?"

I laugh, a syndrome I can't control in stressful situations. "You're mistaken," I answer, my voice gurgling.

He puffs his barreled chest. "I saw you. Now apologize."

The host is blinking rapidly. I take a step towards him; he releases a breath.

The brute hurls a slur.

My ears burn. Muscles quivering, I backup. "People are badly injured using that word."

"No one insults Topaz and walks away."

Topaz. I snicker. "Anyone who insults me with that word will regret it." Even though I'm giggling, I hope he's taking me seriously.  

He bounds from the chair, toppling the wine bottle and glass. Dye job squeals. The brute takes hold of the chair and slings it. He plants his feet in a fighter stance, fist balled at his side. "I'm going to knock that laugh right outta you."

"Please do." Tears are filling my eyes and my cheeks are hurting.

An attractive young woman with a real red rose in the side of her hair touches my arm. "Are you Lance?"

Her appearance calms me a bit. "I'll be with you in a minute. Have to contend with this character."

"Lady, I hope you ain't waiting for this louse. Caught him checking out my girl."

My date pouts.

"You must spend most of your day inebriated."

His confused expression made laughter resurface from me again.

"He means drunk Smithy," Topaz said.

He pivots and swings. I bob and weave. The punch connects with the host, who chose that minute to intervene. He staggers into me. I push him up but I used too much force; he loses his balance and stumbles into the brute, trying to land another punch. He tosses him like a rag doll.

People began yelling and running. Others sit ringside, watching the main event.

Someone grabbed my arm and dragged me to a back room. The last thing I saw was a red rose exiting the restaurant.

The Interceder

My shift had ended when he assaulted me. Mr. Smith and his sweet companion entered the establishment lovey-dovey. Her red hair with a red flower ornament lit her face. I signaled my teammate to take my position and escorted them to their table. They ooh and aww over the dining room. I seated them, gave them their menus, discuss the specials and help them choose a wine before departing.

Ten minutes later, a nervous man arrives alone, looking for a woman with a red rose in her hair. There was a reservation with that description, so I escorted him to her. We proceeded past Mr. Smith's table when I'm suddenly halted by his harsh tone. "Why you looking at my girl?"

I whirl. The guest is just as perplexed as I am. But instead of him moving on; he looks at the couple and laughs. The hairs on the back of my neck stand.

Mr. Smith can probably rip a phone book with his bare hands. Says, "What's funny."

This guy must have a death wish. He chuckles. "My mistake, I didn't know I was looking at a girl."

"What you mean?" Mr. Smith's body contorts. He's turning into the hulk. This isn't looking good. I must have moaned or mumbled because the guest turns to me, acknowledging the concern on my face. He ignores Bruce Banner and takes a step toward me.

Relieved. We take a couple of steps and a nasty word flies out of Mr. Smith's mouth, silencing the room. No more chatter, clinking glasses, or piano music.

My guest backs up. "People don't live happy lives after using that word in public." His voice fluctuates

I'm sure it's on now. I must intercede. "Gentlemen. Please, can we resolve?" I say from a distance.

"No one gets away with insulting Topaz."

My guest burst out laughing again.

Mr. Smith jumps from his chair, knocking over everything on the table, grabs hold of it, and pushes it across the floor. "I'm going to knock that laugh out your mouth." He balls his fist.

"Lance, is that you?" A beautiful woman with a red flower in her hair approaches the guest.

He smiles at her. Seems her presence may change the situation, but I'm still shaking.

"Hold tight. Have to settle something." He said.

Mr. Smith says to her "Saw him checking out my girl."

My guest calls him inebriated, but by the perplexed look on Mr. Smith's face, he does not know what it meant. His sweet date says. "It means drunk Smithy."

I had enough. I step between them just as Mr. Smith throws a punch. The guest ducks and the blow hits the back of my head, propelling me into the guest. He tries to keep me up, but I shake loose. Lose footing and fall into Mr. Smith, who shoves me to the side. I crash against a table.

People are shouting and running. Others have their phones out recording.

Someone helped me up and forced the bunch of us into the manager's office.