An older co-worker (Matt)’s churchy wife disallowed him from watching violent movies. (Just imagine a 45-year-old man interrupting your movie discussion with, “Sounds good, what’s that rated?”) A few years back, we convinced him to “sneak out” for the opening/midnight showing of Grindhouse. Holy Hell! Was that an exhilarating thing for him…
“Sneaking out” for “R-rated movie night” became routine… one night, Matt’s wife followed him. She sat in the back of the theater during 30 Days of Night. Afterward, she ambushed us and threw the biggest shitfit outside the theater. Matt is kind of effeminate anyway, and with shame, he abruptly retreated.
Her churchy disapproval of violent movies didn’t stop her from cheating on him. And they were going to church marital counseling. She picked him up from work and they got in a huge fight in the parking lot… real mean, really belittling… Matt was a sad, pathetic sack. Somehow R-rated movies and “hooligan” friends were as equally untrustworthy as cheating. She left him in the parking lot and we gave him a ride home.
But beforehand, he wanted to watch a movie. Thumbing through the movie shelves, he came upon Fight Club. “This any good?” Eye-opening, that movie was, and Matt was jazzed! He wanted to go drink. Which we did.
After many pity shots, Matt disappears to the bathroom, is gone for a while, and we find that he’s now outside, in a shouting match with a very short but physically fit undergrad half his age. As he sees me and our coworkers approach, he says to the guy, “You ever see Fight Club, pansy-boy?” And he starts mashing together quotes and platitudes from the movie. I’m pretty sure he said, “Are you Jack’s bitch?” Anyway, the kid really didn’t wanna fight Matt, and I apologized, and we tried shutting Matt up. “Afraid of a little confrontation, pussy? You don’t know who you are! You don’t know who you are!” The kid held out as long as he could:
One punch spun my friend around; he stayed on his feet a bit but fell backward and hit his head on the edge of the street curb. I remember that the kid shrugged his shoulders at me as he walked past me and I shrugged mine back; mutual disbelief, maybe. We had to take Matt to the hospital, and he came to work the next day with about 15 stitches. -BlackbeltJones