Copyright 1999 bluewords@yahoo.com I watched the thing happen like it was in slow motion. I had been sitting kind of at the end of the bar, nursing a beer, silently cursing my shyness about asking any of the women here for a dance. It wasn't the best place to go for either dancing or a beer, but it was all right. I was people-watching, listening to their conversations and trying to think of a good line. One guy in particular, although actually his girl- friend, keep my attention for a while. He was, to be blunt, a real asshole. He was demanding to everyone around him, and was particularly rude to the woman he was with. I wondered why the hell she was sticking around with him. Is that what it took to get a woman? Extreme rudeness? If so, I felt better about being alone. She didn't seem all that happy to be with him, from what I could observe. She would do his bidding, but as soon as his back would turn, her face went from smile to frown. I thought she might even start crying a time or two. "You can go get me another beer, bitch," he told her. It wasn't the first time he'd called her that. I saw her emotions play across her face. He had already turned back to his friends, and I noticed that even they were a little taken aback about his crudeness. She walked the few feet towards the bar, upset. There seemed to be a struggle going on inside her. As she approached the bar, a man got up off his stool to leave. She glanced down at the stool and her face became stoic. Instead of ordering a drink, she reached down and grabbed the stool by its legs, about halfway down. Her boyfriend had stood up to make some point to his friends. She picked up the stool and swung it at him, yelling "Devon!" at the same time. As it arced around, another man stopped short in surprise, not close enough to get hit. The slight commotion started by her swinging the stool caused Devon to turn slightly to look in her direction. The seat of the stool struck him squarely in the face, causing him to fall sideways, crashing into the table he'd been sitting at. He knock- ed all the drinks off, splashing his friends and a few other patrons. I saw blood come from on the side of his face where he'd been hit, his smile missing a tooth now. He continued to fall as the table broke, spilling him to the floor. The woman, meanwhile, had dropped the stool, and it hit the floor and bounced slightly at the same time Devon was coming to a rest. She stood there looking at what she'd done with uncom- prehending eyes. The bar's noise level had dipped noticeably, most people were astonished at what had happened. I saw all this and thought quicker than I had in a long time. I threw a twenty down on the bar for my tab, and approached the woman. Devon's friends were wiping their hands down their shirts trying to get glass and beer off. One of his friends had made it around the broken table and was checking him out. Devon was out cold, but was still breathing, and I saw a vein in his neck pulsing. I walked up to the woman and said, "If you want to leave, now would be a good time." She glanced up at me, and what I said quickly sunk in. She nodded, so I lightly grabbed her arm and led her out of the bar, past disbelieving patrons. The bouncer ran past us, not knowing what had happened yet. I turned back to look at the bartender, who, with a vague motion at me, let me know that he thought getting her out of there was probably a good idea. We left quickly, and were outside in seconds. I steered her around to the parking lot. She stopped short and wrenched her arm out of my slight grasp. "Wait, I-" she began. "Look, I'll give you a ride to where you want to go, but you probably need to get the hell out of here right now." I was concerned for her safety. She'd just cold-cocked her boyfriend, and I was concerned for her. She looked like she was going to argue, but then she relented. "Okay," she said meekly. I led the way to my car, and we pulled out of the parking lot and into the night. Read other Blueword's stories at: http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/bluewords/www