A Tumultuous Night

The night began quiet. I stood alone on Main Street. The fog accentuating all things. A lone street artist played a beautiful melody from his guitar and I felt at peace. Such a rare feeling. Then came chaos. The streets became flooded with the degenerates of a Wednesday night. They poured out of their respective establishments. Yelling, stumbling, and more yelling. A small man, tear drop tattoo on his face, started a fight at one bar. He came out screaming and posturing as if being the loudest portrays strength. He claimed witness to a woman being assaulted but upon investigation, she had not been. This small male assaulted another patron for the sole reason he himself is insecure and weak of constitution. I stood next to him and the group he argued with. He was called a “bitch” and a “creep”. All things revealed, it was him who assaulted a woman. Accused of lifting a woman’s skirt whilst trying to touch her. As he was eighty-sixed, his vociferous tone attracted the attention of many other inebriated persons. Drunk men ready to fight any target which can boost their own egos with the false idea of defending some damsel in distress, and women who believe they can calm any sort of altercation. A cacophony of ignorance through inebriation. I watched closely as this tiny male threatened to “knock out” a man twice his size and that was only the first man to approach him. Many other false knights attempted to get involved. Of course nothing transpired. Posturing and posturing as animals in the wild. This concrete jungle is no different.