Caustic C and the Regrettable Row

I returned to the small town to visit friends.

I was told that C would be at their home doing his laundry but I planned on ignoring him and didn’t foresee any problems.

I don’t know C that well. He has a reputation for pontificating on philosophy and being highly argumentative but I had never personally gotten into any heated discussions with him so I couldn’t have known what was in store.

I arrived at J and L’s house and made a vague nod toward C. What I really wanted to do was sprawl on some piece of furniture and get lost in the novelization of Jane Campion’s “The Piano.”

Somehow, some awful way, it was decided that J and L would host an impromptu cookout and that C and I should be the ones to go buy the meat.

C began acting nervous as if someone were forcing him into a small cage with a lioness. I was highly irritated by this.

“Would you like to drive?” I asked sarcastically. “Oh that’s right, you can’t!”

This was a low blow on my part because C’s license was suspended for driving under the influence.

We started off on our meat safari chatting with a forced politeness. After about 15 minutes we were speaking of my mentor from the town who had passed away last year and C launched into an dreadful attack on his character, painting him as a hack, professional failure, letch and all around terrible person because he worked for Texaco back at the dawn of time. I asked him if he had ever made a mistake before in his life but this only accelerated his assault on my old friend. I then asked him if it was lonely up there on his cross and he said my comment was “stupid.”

We managed some sort of civility in the store and even managed to chat on the drive back about the Michigan boarding school I attended which was near where he grew up.

All of a sudden, we were arguing again. He was attacking my military service and desire to work as a diplomat.

He then committed the fatal error of saying “you don’t understand.”

My mother often says this to me, usually when we are discussing something political or religious and she wants to insinuate that I have been living in a cave somewhere and have no idea what I’m talking about.

Nothing incenses me quite like this phrase.

No, of course I don’t understand. I’ve only served in two branches of the military and am completing a master’s program in International Policy.

Poor sheltered me!

I told C there were two kinds of people in the world; those who complain about the problem and those who figure out how to do something about it. He said there was a third option and I asked what it was. He said it would take too long to explain and I offered to slow my driving speed. He then began to make ad hominem attacks in which he posited that I was naïve and idiotic. He seemed to have decided that I was on the opposite side of whatever his point of view was (without actually knowing my thoughts) and he insinuated that I was both morally and ethically bankrupt. This was never more apparent than when he was talking about the evils of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. Obviously, he thought of me as their personal cheerleader and number one fan.

I went tearing up J and L’s driveway calling C “the biggest a-hole I had ever met” and yelling at him to get the hell away from me.

I sought refuge with L while C wandered over to J –probably to make some sweeping generalizations about womankind. I told L I had always instinctually felt the need to dislike C and now had concrete reasons for doing so. She likened him to Holden Caulfield saying that to him, everyone else was a fake and he was the only true thing. She also said that he tended to lash out verbally when he felt nervous around people. My temper was somewhat calmed by the idea of him being so terrified of my beauty and intellect that he felt defensive. It was pitiful and flattering at the same time.

I decided to try being civil. I walked out onto the patio and told him I thought he was a bit of jerk but I still liked him.

That might have done the trick if we both hadn’t started drinking.

As guests continued to arrive, the fireworks between C and I were amped up to a spectacular degree. He said I was a giant leap backward for womankind and I mused that men like him were the reason why I continued to have such low expectations for his gender. He said I was a powerful argument for suicide and I offered to search the nearby shed for a rusty farm implements that might do the trick.

When performing character assassinations in English became too easy, we switched to Spanish.

At one point I got so mad that I pushed him in the chest.

This shocked me for two reasons:

1      I abhor physical violence

2     His chest was firmer than I anticipated.

Had I been a bit more sober I might have realized that C repeatedly tried to seek refuge from me in different parts of the house.

As the guests started to leave and I threw myself down on a couch in the living room. I loudly asked J when he was “taking the a-hole home” while C was standing right beside him.

I went to bed thereafter, only to later be awoken by the sound of C snoring on the couch in the living room. Instead of drifting off to sleep I stayed up for a few more hours thinking of mean comments to hurl at him in the morning.

When I finally did get up he was already gone.

Throughout the rest of the day, L told me how I had stalked after him in the house and taken great pleasure in publicly berating him.

At first I felt triumphant for out-bullying the bully but then I began to realize that he had been trying to avoid me for most of the night and I was the one who kept at him.

In the story “Peter Pan,” the treacherous Captain Hook is constantly self reflecting on his actions and asking himself if any of them were in bad form. He simply can’t bare the idea of being in bad form. I realized that I had been in bad form with C the entire evening and I began to feel deeply ashamed of myself.

C is obviously intelligent but the impact of his ideas is overshadowed by the abrasive way in which they are expressed. His overwhelming hubris combined with his pompous tone and caustic retorts would wear out the most patient of saints.

I can’t think of a more tragic, nervous affliction to have. The person being verbally assaulted by him is left with the desire to clarify their position, argue their point and defend their good name all at once. This, of course, is impossible.

After I stewed in the shame of my actions for a few days, I asked J to take me to C’s house so I could apologies. He agreed and I stood before C in a state of absolute contrition. I asked that he pardon me for my crass and belligerent behavior and he graciously did. I was relieved and immediately began to feel that all was right with the world again. I listened as he and J spoke to each other and vowed to keep silent for the duration. Before we left, C shook my hand and I was happy.

I think I’ll stick to drinking water the next time I’m around him.