A New Perspective: Chapter 2
Everything annoyed me then. Every little thing from the wetness of my duffle on my shoulder to the doorman at the bar eyeing me curiously when he asked for my I.D. and I offered a handshake. He just smiled a silent laugh and told me he was joking right before ushering me inside the pub. I would have laughed openly if I hadn't been so damn pissed off and frustrated as all hell. I had the rapist brigade to thank for my current state. But I couldn't let the emotions go just yet. I wouldn't let them go. Hate is a powerful emotion to have and I hadn't really felt much of anything lately the way I felt their anger. It seduced me and I found myself grasping to hold onto their personalities for just a little while longer. Or at least, that's how long I told myself I would hang onto it for. I was shocked out of the conversation about hate going on in my head when I heard a loud smack followed by successive waves of cheering rising from the center of the room. I had to find out what was going on. All the excitement and action lured me into the crowds where I could see what everyone was shouting about. A limp man had just been dragged off the floor of a fenced in cage. "Are you going to let this man walk away with your money?" A makeshift referee announced. I could barely see the other character from where I was standing. He faced away from me, so all I could make out was some impressive back muscles and a pair of blue jeans followed up with a real case of bead head. The crowd roared. I guess he had taken quite a bit of the gathering's cash already. "I'll fight 'im!" Shouted a burly bald guy who looked like Steve from the Springer show. My momma never let me watch that, but surprisingly enough, Jim turned out to be a long-time and loyal fan. The guy, I'll call him Steve, entered the cage and after a few words with the ref, he went to work on the shirtless character. He roughed him up quite a bit. So much in fact I thought it was going to be over pretty damn quick, but when he got hit below the belt the man got back on his feet and countered Steve's punch with one of his own. And oh mah God was this man gorgeous! He made short work out of the guy and left him lying there after giving him a swift kick to the side. Wow. The way he moved. What can I say? I mean, wow. It got me all weak in the knees to see a fellow predator. And I knew that was exactly what he was as soon as I saw him sniffing around the room and stalking back to his corner of the cage. Wow. I had to see what this guy was made of. Immediately, the men in my head suggested I go and fight him myself. I had the energy and strength to do so for at least the next thirty minutes, so why not? It would rid me of the frustration I felt if nothing else. So I shimmied my way up to the cage entrance and motioned for the fat little ref to come hither. He obliged. "I wanna fight that man." I said in the sweetest Southern voice I had. "I don't think so, child. This here is for men only. Why don't you go back and play fight with your Barbies or something?" And with that the little bastard walked away and probably didn't think twice about the exchange we just had. Meanwhile I was fuming. I mean, how dare that pig tell me a girl couldn't fight in the ring. I mean, did he even know how many masculine voices I had to answer to? No, I guess he didn't. But hell, that didn't matter! I told myself I'd get him back later on, when he least expected it. And that's just what I did. But I won't tell you about that just yet. It's not time. I will tell you, though that I sulked onto a nearby barstool, though and waited patiently for something to ease the tension I felt. Damn those horny old guys!
Everything annoyed me then. Every little thing from the wetness of my duffle on my shoulder to the doorman at the bar eyeing me curiously when he asked for my I.D. and I offered a handshake. He just smiled a silent laugh and told me he was joking right before ushering me inside the pub. I would have laughed openly if I hadn't been so damn pissed off and frustrated as all hell. I had the rapist brigade to thank for my current state. But I couldn't let the emotions go just yet. I wouldn't let them go. Hate is a powerful emotion to have and I hadn't really felt much of anything lately the way I felt their anger. It seduced me and I found myself grasping to hold onto their personalities for just a little while longer. Or at least, that's how long I told myself I would hang onto it for. I was shocked out of the conversation about hate going on in my head when I heard a loud smack followed by successive waves of cheering rising from the center of the room. I had to find out what was going on. All the excitement and action lured me into the crowds where I could see what everyone was shouting about. A limp man had just been dragged off the floor of a fenced in cage. "Are you going to let this man walk away with your money?" A makeshift referee announced. I could barely see the other character from where I was standing. He faced away from me, so all I could make out was some impressive back muscles and a pair of blue jeans followed up with a real case of bead head. The crowd roared. I guess he had taken quite a bit of the gathering's cash already. "I'll fight 'im!" Shouted a burly bald guy who looked like Steve from the Springer show. My momma never let me watch that, but surprisingly enough, Jim turned out to be a long-time and loyal fan. The guy, I'll call him Steve, entered the cage and after a few words with the ref, he went to work on the shirtless character. He roughed him up quite a bit. So much in fact I thought it was going to be over pretty damn quick, but when he got hit below the belt the man got back on his feet and countered Steve's punch with one of his own. And oh mah God was this man gorgeous! He made short work out of the guy and left him lying there after giving him a swift kick to the side. Wow. The way he moved. What can I say? I mean, wow. It got me all weak in the knees to see a fellow predator. And I knew that was exactly what he was as soon as I saw him sniffing around the room and stalking back to his corner of the cage. Wow. I had to see what this guy was made of. Immediately, the men in my head suggested I go and fight him myself. I had the energy and strength to do so for at least the next thirty minutes, so why not? It would rid me of the frustration I felt if nothing else. So I shimmied my way up to the cage entrance and motioned for the fat little ref to come hither. He obliged. "I wanna fight that man." I said in the sweetest Southern voice I had. "I don't think so, child. This here is for men only. Why don't you go back and play fight with your Barbies or something?" And with that the little bastard walked away and probably didn't think twice about the exchange we just had. Meanwhile I was fuming. I mean, how dare that pig tell me a girl couldn't fight in the ring. I mean, did he even know how many masculine voices I had to answer to? No, I guess he didn't. But hell, that didn't matter! I told myself I'd get him back later on, when he least expected it. And that's just what I did. But I won't tell you about that just yet. It's not time. I will tell you, though that I sulked onto a nearby barstool, though and waited patiently for something to ease the tension I felt. Damn those horny old guys!