I had an enjoyable day at the beach after having dispatched another customer service villain earlier today. I soaked in the sun for a bit, then waded out into the salty ocean to cool myself down. Yes, it was a truly wonderful day.
My parents and I are now dining at a local seafood restaurant. It’s a pirate-themed, seafood buffet. It really is quite a show. The servers are all dressed up as pirates. The main buffet line has a mast with a sale mounted above it. There’s a cove by the entrance with a young lady dressed up as a mermaid. The young lady in question has braces making the establishment’s choice to have her masquerade as a mermaid was a questionable one. I’ve never seen a mermaid with braces. Anyhow, the crab here is exquisite and the lobster divine. My first day in Myrtle Beach had just about purged my recently undertaken mission from my mind, but then duty called once again.
My parents and I were seated at our table and enjoying our food when the commotion arose. Like a deafening clap of thunder some douche began yelling at poor waitress because she had forgotten to put a lemon in his ice water. Oh, the horror. This idiocy was taking place a mere couple of tables behind us.
The tirade was quite embarrassing for all involved. The embarrassment was evident on the waitress’ face. The poor girl looked ready to unfurl tears of shame. The idiot yelling at her, however, displayed no shame and was quite oblivious to the fact that almost every occupant of this fine establishment had their gaze firmly fixed on the spectacle he had created.
I knew immediately that something needed to be done, but having learned from my past experiences I knew I had to be discrete as to avoid the legal fallout my actions will surely create.
After pondering my options while enjoying some succulent shrimp, I decided I would wait for the ginormous douche to walk by on his way to the buffet. Luckily, my seat was facing his table and I was sitting at the end of my table where I could implement my plan easily.
Minutes fell by the wayside as I waited for this tool to head back to the buffet. As I waited my parents and I had small talk consisting mostly of them gossiping about all the people they know. I guess that’s what wealthy people do. I ignored most of their discussion as I kept my focus on my target, who shall be known as Mad Mel henceforth. Med Mel was dressed incredibly stylishly, wearing a fancy black three-piece suit with a black shirt and a black tie with gray stripes. His wavy hair was parted to the side and slicked back a bit with hair gel. Or possibly Crisco. It sure did shine. He had a handlebar mustache with a thin goatee. It was quite a daring display of facial hair, if I do say so myself.
After some time had passed – I wasn’t sure how much because I gave up checking my watch after a while – he finally rose from his seat and began to make his way to the buffet.
I prepared for the inevitable conflict to come. I was getting butterflies and my extremities began to tingle.
Mad Mel had reached our table. As he walked by, I nonchalantly stuck my left foot out to trip him. Mad Mel tripped and fell forward. Naturally. Most people do when they are tripped. I had executed my simple plan flawlessly, but it appeared that I had forgotten to take certain factors into consideration. Like if I should check to see if someone was standing behind me when I decided to trip him.
Unfortunately, my lack of foresight backfired. Mad Mel fell into the waitress he had publicly humiliated just a short while ago. To make things worse, she was carrying a tray full of drinks. Liquids of all different colors flew in every direction like a gothic neopolitan drink bomb had just exploded. The poor waitress, whom I was trying to avenge, ended up wearing most of the drinks. Mad Mel ended up with a bit of it on his expensive-looking suit, which was some sort of consolation at least.
Glasses shattered as they hit the hard, tile floor. The waitress screamed. Mad Mel cursed. Loudly. Every patron in the restaurant rubbernecked in unison to see what the commotion was.
After the shock of what I had done to this poor girl had passed, I quickly evacuated my seat and ran to her. I knelt down next to her and asked her if she was okay.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she answered as she checked her body to ensure that none of the broken glass had lacerated her.
I offered her my hand, which she accepted, and I helped her up from the floor. “I apologize, ma’am. I never intended for this to happen.”
She opened her mouth to respond, but the roar of a furious Mad Mel prevented her. “Why are you apologizing to her, asshole? You tripped me!”
I casually turned to regard Mad Mel. “Of course I tripped you. I’m apologizing to her because I meant only to hurt you. I never intended…” And that was as far into my sentence as I had gotten before Mad Mel exploded.
“You tripped my on purpose, asswipe?” he bellowed. “Do you have any idea how much this suit costs?”
“Do you have any idea how little I care?” I asked dismissively.
Mad Mel opened his mouth to respond, but I cut him off before he could begin to speak. “Furthermore, it might interest you to know that I tripped you due to your rude treatment of this young lady. She is working her hardest for a meager wage while an ungrateful douchekite like yourself publicly, and shamelessly, humiliates her. And for what? She forgot to put a lemon in your water?”
“Yeah, but that’s not the only…” Mad Mel tried to interject.
“DON’T YOU KNOW,” I shouted, “that it is extremely foolish to mistreat your server? Do you not know what they can and will do to your food?”
“It’s a buffet, dumbass,” he retorted.
Oh, yeah. I had forgotten.
“Nevertheless, she could spit in your drink.”
“I would never…” the waitress began before a shushed her.
“Shhhhhh. I’m helping you. Watch and learn.” I instructed her.
“Let me get this straight,” Mad Mel began, “you tripped me because I yelled at a stupid waitress because she can’t remember a simple thing like putting a lemon in my water?”
“Well,” I answered, “when you put it like that it does seem a tad childish. I prefer to think of it in terms of you being a huge douche who needed to be put in his place.”
And that was the straw that broke the camel’s back apparently. Mad Mel had finally been provoked. He rushed toward me while simultaneously screaming, “you sonuva bitch!”
I held my ground until the very last moment. I then swiftly shifted my body to the left, crouching down on my left leg whilst leaving my right leg extended outward. Mad Mel subsequently tripped over my outstretched leg and fell to the ground. I quickly moved beside my fallen opponent and swiftly kicked him in the temple, rendering him unconscious.
I then laughed heroically as I said, “Evil is foiled again. Let this be a lesson to all who would belittle my customer service…”
That was as far as I had gotten before I felt a heard and felt something solid strike the back of my head. Then blackness came.
I awoke some time later not sure how many minutes, hours, or even days had passed. I seemed to be in a dark room laying on a comfortable bed. Moonlight cascaded through the window, refusing to be hindered by stubborn blinds and curtains. Glancing further around the darkened room revealed huge red numbers which levitated in the air and read 2:34am. So, I had apparently been unconscious for a few hours.
I sincerely doubted this was a prison cell based on all of my knowledge of Law and Order, so I cleverly (and I am quite clever) deduced that I was back in my hotel room though I had not even the slightest idea how I had gotten there.
I decided those questions could wait until morning, however, because I was still tired and my head was pounding. I placed my hand on the back of my head, where the pain was emanating from, and felt a large knot that was incredibly tender to the touch. I wondered what had happened and who had gotten the drop on me, but those questions, too, would have to wait until morning. I purged all thoughts from my mind and it wasn’t long before the sandman came to reclaim me.
When I awoke the next morning, the sun was risen and had completely illuminated the room in which I was in. I was indeed in my hotel room as I had suspected during the night. I glanced at the clock and found that I had slept another eight hours.
I rose from my incredibly comfortable bed and sauntered groggily to the bathroom. Having been unconscious for over twelve hours my bladder had filled to capacity and the relief I felt in emptying it was almost orgasmic. Almost.
After getting that bit of business out if the way, I left my room where I found my parents sitting at the dining room table eating breakfast.
My father looked up from his Ipad and said, “Well, if it isn’t the vigilante himself.”
“Vigilante?” I asked, perplexed.
“Yes, vigilante,” he replied, annoyed. “What the fuck did you think you were doing? Do you really think you accomplished anything yesterday besides making an ass of yourself?”
I ignored his insignificant inquiries. “Who hit me and how did I get here? Some fool will pay the price for that.”
My father leaned forward in his chair before answering. “I did.”
“Well, perhaps not.”
He sat back in his chair. “You were embarrassing me.”
Anger flooded through me. “Do not interfere with me again when I am dispensing justice, fool! That dimwit needed to be taught a lesson!”
“Excuse me?!” My father asked incredulously as he shot up out of his chair.
“Both of you stop it!” roared my mother. “We are on vacation. We can discuss this when we get home, but for now I want to enjoy our vacation.”
My father slowly sat back down at the table, picked up his Ipad, and resumed whatever it was he was doing moments ago. I decided to go back to my room and ponder just where I had gone wrong. Again. I had set out to right the wrongs committed against those in the customer service business, yet every time I do it backfires on me. Even my own father fails to recognize my noble goal. Perhaps I need a catchy name. Every superhero worth his (or her) salt has a catchy nickname. I shall ponder this and assume a superhero identity before I continue my crusade.