Pipsqueaks and Power of Love Poems

We are in lovely tropical Sayulita, Mexico!  Lush green jungle, bursts of color flying through the air in the form of birds, gentle folk walk by and greet us with a hearty Buenos Dias on our early morning walks, and newly hatched baby turtles struggle to make their way to the ocean.  In our casita garden there are flowers so perfect,  they look waxen.  The soothing sound of waves reminds us that yet another year is soon to pass and we are here again  enjoying warmth and sunshine in the middle of winter.

Sometimes a crack appears in the mirror.  Yesterday, at an outdoor cafe/bakery,  I was witness to a violent angry man who went ballistic on a South American tourist who was enjoying a simple cup of coffee and a pastry.

The American red-faced bully asked the South American tourist, “Are these seats taken?”

The South American gentleman looked around at the many empty chairs nearby and perhaps wondered why the man would ask him a question with such an obvious answer.  “There’s plenty of seats!”  He accentuated what he said with a wide sweeping arm gesture.

Perhaps because English is not his native language, his tone and reply sounded slightly haughty and the American red-faced bully went into an insane rage!  He raged and yelled, his bulbous nose inches away from the coffee-drinking gentleman,  while his daughters and granddaughter stood by, lowering their heads, ashamed and embarrassed.

The South American gentleman tried to understand what went wrong.  He was holding his hands up in the air as if he were being held up at gunpoint.  “What did I do?”  What did I say wrong?  Why are you so angry?”

Inches from his face, the raging maniac says, “What did you do? What did you do?  What did you DO???  You smart-ass!”  And a volley of obscenities followed.

Passersby stopped and stared.  This sort of interaction just doesn’t happen in manana-land  Sayulita, our gentle tropical paradise.

The coffee drinker continued to defend himself. “My English is not so good!  Perhaps you misunderstood me.  I didn’t say anything to make you angry.”

“I don’t care about your fucking English!  I’ve got 8 people coming to join me and I need 8 seats!”

No one, including myself, tried to intervene, to protect our innocent coffee drinker.   I looked at Rick, who was clearly ready to jump in if this situation came to fists and blows…but, thankfully, it did not!

People here in Sayulita are very gentle.  It is one of the most endearing aspects of this place.  We have never witnessed anything like this outburst of anger!  One waiter, Juan, had been observing the whole interaction.  He walked into the bakery, presumably to tell Angel, the bakery owner, but Angel never came out.  Instead, handsome Juan came back out of the bakery and calmly put two tables together and placed 8 chairs at the joined tables.  He then gently guided the raging lunatic over to the table to sit with the mortified family members.

The South American gentleman awkwardly went back to sipping his coffee.  I had a feeling the coffee had become cold and must have now taken on a bitter edge.

The florid bully sat fidgeting, still hot under his non-collared t-shirt.  His family, most likely used to such violent outbursts, did  not confront him.  They now acted as if everything had resumed to “normal”.

Rick and I returned to our coffees, dispelling the negative vibrations.  Rick pulled out the book he’s been reading called “Love Poems”, by his favorite Mexican poet, Jaime Sabines.  Luck had it that the bully was sitting directly across from Rick who was holding up  his book “Love  Poems”,  a shield against hatred and violence.  From time to time, Rick peered over the book to see the bully staring at the book title.  The bully seemed filled with a creeping sense of guilt and shame.

Reflection begins.

Bully is just another word for Pipsqueak, we concluded!