Living Within a Cycle of Violence
- A History written in Waffle House, CH 1-
An Anarchist, a Feminist, and an Academic walk into a Waffle House. She quietly scans the bright yellow, orange and brown exterior to find her party. A thick bodied black man wearing a course beard and camo hoodie is 'dining' with a Latina woman in a mechanics shirt. Her name is Dale, and the light brown bloodstains inform the observer as to how the shirt was purchased. Our triple threat pushes a thin green string of bangs from her eyes and behind her ear as she sit down, places an order, and remains quiet. The heavy set man continues his story...
"Never, ever, forget we could have stopped fighting long ago. Even when the "THREE BROTHERS" , that's what they call them, were busy fucking each other over and pretending everything was cool, this place was a goddamn mess. The history I saw collected in those Den Realms... it would turn your stomach. Long before, in Europe and the Middle East, all over the place, but not here exactly, the wolves wiped the floor with the other changers over some European shit. Here, it was just a little culling. Just a little, know your place, and a little get in line. You hear me?
"Maybe we should have been ok with that? Especially given how the other half the world got it. But no, of course not. When someone makes a fool of you in public, your not really inclined to just let that lie. My people used to know the locals. We used to have some skin in the game. So of course we pushed back. I think it was the Oldest brothers, the Norfolk, or the Victorias, or maybe the Iroquois. Something like that, well they settled around here and made it theirs. Boxing ears, and slapping us Cats into line.
"So naturally, we killed the sons of bitches that came for us. Sometimes, I guess, we went after them that didn't. It doesn't really matter, fighting was fighting, and that seems to be the only language history respects." He takes a moment to catch his breath and add some more Tabasco sauce to his... Meal?, "Well all that slapping around caught up with them. They picked some fight with a big ass spirit, and when they came for help, of course no one was ready to give handouts. Even those Winnie the Pooh bitch bears didn't show up. So, finally, the goddamn wolves got the thing that happens to every hard ass. They finally found the badder dude, and he killed those sons of bitches down to the last. Leroy Brown, am I right?".
The two women at the table allow his question to go unanswered. The Latina Woman begins playing with silverware as if she is bored, finally speaking to fill the silence, "We all know this. It is old story. I think you waste my time.". A sudden gesture from the larger man startles everyone.
He presents one finger, as if it were a piece of evidence, "But you gotta understand, its all about context. See, the Europeans were looking for a way to train up during the off season. They had kinda taken a break from killing the ever loving shit out of one another, and decided before they started back, they were gonna go train some, get some trophies and maybe try out some new tactics. Well boys, I don't know if you know what its like to go from shooting hoops at the YMCA to playing real ball down at Shilito, but it was a huge step up. WE ALL, Red Wolves included, did not know what we didn't know. These guys came in an fucked our women, on our bed, with our condoms. It was ugly.
"They proceeded to do the same from coast to coast you understand. It would be easy to say that we were the victim here, but really, they balled out with their fangs out from the 13 original colonies all the way to the Pacific Ocean. Don't let even one motherfucker tell you they put up a fight, because they just did not. Hell, the only thing that slowed them down was a bunch of their kin drawing a line between the north and south. It didn't really stop them, they just had to take a break again. And that is that. That is the history of the wolves here in America. All of it, abridged and easy to digest.". The man sits silent, as the two women exchange glances, and not so subtle eye rolls. Just as the late joiner is prepared to speak...
"What is super fucked up, is we didn't stop. Neither did you guys. While all this shit was going on, everyone of us got wrapped up in the pissed off, and went for blood where it was available. We like to act high and mighty, but I promise you, on my mother, that if you look back, even a bit, you will see I am right. Every time one wolf was kicking the other in the dick, we came right up behind that fight and put our boots on their necks. Every time someone around here got beat down, we were ready to bury them, cause fuck it, they would do the same, right? It's true. You ain't gotta like it, but it's fucking true."
He may have been proud of himself, however his guests were more than a little tired of listening. The younger woman accepted her order of ... 'food' placed on the table, and waited for some privacy before speaking, "You have grown into quite the apologist.".
The Latina Guest was far more succinct. "Idiota...".
