As has been previously discussed, super tough guy Chris Brown got beaten up the other night by a Canadian in a cardigan sweater for possibly Rihanna-related reasons. Which got me to thinking…is it ever possible for this to happen in a way that does not make you want to ex-communicate both of them for being primitive, fist wielding troglodytes? Could it ever be, dare I say it…hot? I mean, what person hasn’t fantasized about their current partner giving their shitty ex a smack or two? Especially if that shitty ex once hit her until she almost died. Especially then would it be understandable.
I’ve never had men literally fight over me, but it did take me a little while to come to terms with my boyfriend’s propensity for fisticuffs. The first month we were dating, he managed to get into fights on two separate occasions while we were out together. The first time, there was a drunk and belligerent fellow at his friend’s house party, whom his friend was trying to eject. The guy took a swing at his friend, at which point several buddies (my boyfriend included) jumped in to help subdue the troublemaker. The man left! Then my boyfriend made grunting sounds and dragged me back to his cave by my hair.
Just kidding. I yelled at him, because what the fuck was that? Couldn’t they have just called the cops or something? (They could not have, because All Cops Are Bastards.) Eventually, I came around to the idea that this was a morally acceptable fight to have had, but it still turned me off a little bit, because I wasn’t yet used to dating someone with more testosterone than me.
The other fight was less…ethical, but also involved backing up a friend whom someone had just attacked. Knowing that I didn’t want my guy fighting, my scrappy friend Jodie (who is like, 100 lbs and 5’0″) jumped up and hung off his arm like a vicious chihuahua, enduring much crossfire to try and quell the brawl. Afterwards, the dudes involved made peace with one another like nothing had happened, and, at the risk of sounding gender-essentialist, I wondered what it’s like to be a man. I know girls fight too, but I never have. I’ve been hit, but I’ve never fought back, because the mean streets of Connecticut didn’t teach me those skills. I’m pretty great at running away, though!
How could my boyfriend, an otherwise kind and intelligent man (who listens to The Smiths and reads gender theory), be okay with pummeling another man with his fists? “I’m just backing up my friends,” he said. But after much needling, I got him to admit that he actually kind of likes fighting, because it gives him a thrill. Well then!
Since then, I’ve started to semi-understand it. It helps that I’ve experienced a sneak-attack of my own in the interim. In my fantasies, I hit her back instead of cowering and crying like I did, because that seems like it would be more satisfying. And maybe more effective? I’ve always been a word person, but words aren’t going to convince someone who’s hitting you to stop, nor will they convince a mugger not to mug you. Maybe violence is useful, sometimes, if you have no other choice.
And back to the topic of testosterone…sigh. I know it’s barbaric, but it eventually started to turn me on that I was dating someone who’d stand up for my honor if, say, someone grabbed my ass at a party. Or if a girl applied blunt force trauma to my head again. Or if someone was trying to mug us. None of my other boyfriends would do that! They would leave me behind and flee, because they are cowards. The only fight my previous boyfriend’s ever been in (to my knowledge) was when he got blackout drunk and tried to fight his dad in Mexico. (Hid dad reacted by asking him if he was okay.)
Do I have any real justification for this? No, of course not. But we exist so far removed from nature that it’s nice to be reminded we’re animals once in a while. The other time this happens, of course, is sex. And I’ve found one can sometimes lead to the other.