I live next door to Cap Hansen’s, a bar, so I drink there all the time. Cap’s is a bar for full time ‘Hamsters. This is where my peers who are rock musicians, artists, go to get rowdy. Because my palatial five-bedroom apartment is across the alley, the drinking often continues at my house after the bars close. This arrangement affords me free beer, so most of the time I don’t mind.
Jeff is my roommate. He’s a large individual. He was an all-state center in high school football. He has a tattoo of brass knuckles on his leg with the inscription “Love Thy Neighbor.” I know he has a history of violence because he told me so. He insists he isn’t that guy anymore.
It’s about 2 a.m. and we’re about to go to our respective beds, Jeff and I. Leif, my other roommate, has already gone to bed. He’s with a girl, Jamie. We’re about to go to bed when there’s a pounding on the door. It’s Brian and Chris and some other people. They’re drunk, and they have beer, a half rack. Jeff and I decide, what the hell, we’ll have another beer.
Soon more people arrive with more beer. Soon there’s about a dozen or so people in the living room all talking and drinking.
Finally, Matt arrives. Matt’s out of line, and he’s pissing people off. He’s had way too much to drink, he’s already spilt two beers. He’s tossing empty beer cans around. One hit a Ella in the face.
Jeff takes Matt aside and tells him to behave himself. I’m not sure Matt’s really hearing. I think Matt’s in black out mode.
It’s about 3:30 a.m. and all the beer is gone. Jeff is kicking people out. Time to go to bed, for real this time. Time to get the fuck out.
Matt doesn’t want to leave. He wants to sleep right where he is.
Matt and Jeff have known each other much longer than I’ve known either of them, somewhere around nine years.
Some of Jeff’s friends are hiding in the bathroom so they can stay after everyone else leaves. Mostly I think Jeff just wants Matt out of the house. When Jeff repeatedly makes it explicitly clear that he wants Matt gone, Matt gets verbally abusive. Matt’s belligerent. He’s picking a fight. He’s pushing Jeff’s buttons, calling Jeff a shit bag (I’m just paraphrasing. What Matt’s actually saying isn’t really coherent), making Jeff madder.
Now they’re shouting in each other’s face, chest to chest, toe to toe.
I intervene. I try to reason with them both. I tell them to relax. I tell them to go to bed. I tell them that the conversation is over. What I do doesn’t defuse the situation, not really. Jeff goes to the other side of the kitchen counter because he knows that if there isn’t a physical divider between Matt and him, something bad is going to happen. Despite the barrier, the counter, the shouting continues, so I go to my room.
It must be around 4 a.m. when the shouting stops. It sounds like they’re moving furniture around in the living room. It’s the sound of an altercation. I come out of my room to see what’s going on.
Matt’s on the ground, unconscious. Jeff is on top of Matt, punching him in the face. In the few seconds it takes me to cross the room, Jeff lands more than a few blows. Each one seems to make the whole room shake.
I pull Jeff off Matt. There’s blood on Matt’s ear, and the left side of his face is already swelling.
Leif enters the scene from his bedroom. Jeff’s friends come out of the bathroom. The living room is putrid with violence, and I’m so agitated I’m shaking. I’m a ghost. I don’t feel like I’m really here. I feel like I just watched myself watch this happen. Everyone else must feel the same because no one is doing anything. We’re all just standing around in disbelief.
Leif tells everybody to get the fuck out. Jamie’s getting ice. Jeff’s holding Matt’s hand, telling him, wake up. Are you alright? Wake up.
Leif checks Matt for signs of concussion, checks his spine, his pupils.
I find half a beer and drink it. I smoke a cigarette. Whoever is still around has formed small groups and are discussing what just transpired. I don’t feel like talking about it.
Matt’s awake, and he’s got ice to keep the swelling down. He’s in the adjacent bedroom, crying. Leif tries to calm him down, but Matt’s talking the same shit as before he got knocked out. Leif recruits Chris to take Matt to Chris’s house. Matt has a few maudlin parting shots for Jeff. Jeff just smirks. He’s got the smug look of a sore winner.
My lease expires in two months, so I declare that I’m moving out. I say aloud that I can’t abide by this violence. This house is not my home.
I go to my room and try to sleep, but I’m still so agitated that I’m nothing but wide awake. I’m lying here with the nights events looping through my brain. I’m disappointed at my friends for the way they behaved, but I’m more disappointed at the way I did. I feel just as culpable as the two culprits because I did not do more to prevent it. I’m damned by my own inaction. All I can do now is write about it…
