Bum Fight!


anthony selonke viI move through Prague’s Hlavní nádraží (main train station) towards the metro with the heads-down intent of a New York City commuter. Already at 5:30 p.m. the sun has set and the wet weather adds a “let’s put hemlock in our milk” mood into the quiet atmosphere. Making matters worse, I substituted a lesson today which introduced a few impolite students into my otherwise predictable day. I have been carrying around that anger all day.  My goal, like everyone else, is to get from point A (work) to point B (kitchen).

However, when I hear a shouted grumble and glimpse a flurry of ragged clothing, I move out of the cattle line to get a perspective. There are three of them; two men and a woman. The woman is with one of the men; they have matching jackets and His & Hers gaps in their teeth. At the genesis of the argument I ask a woman what they are saying. She doesn’t know, but mentions with interest that there is something about chicken and underwear. The possibilities are endless, but one thing is very clear:

We are about to see a bum fight.

I only witnessed one bum fight while I lived in the U.S. I was driving down Girard Avenue in North Philadelphia towards my high school. One bum was beating another bum with a hockey stick. How a hockey stick ended up in North Philly will forever remain a mystery to me. Bum #1 thwacked Bum #2 until they put the hockey stick into a nearby Bum-Vehicle (shopping cart) and strolled away together as if nothing had happened. That was it. Aggression over. And for fifteen years I was denied audience in the world of the bum fight.

Prague reawakened my interest in making bum fights a source of passive entertainment. This entertainment exists on many levels:

  1. The bums have nothing to lose, including jobs and teeth.
  2. The bums provide commentary on their own fight in an incoherent, drunken language that defies the world of linguistics.
  3. The bums are not me.
  4. If there is a female bum involved, she almost certainly wins the fight.
  5. It offers a chance to snag some free boxed wine.
  6. The rampant swinging airs the bums out for a moment or two, acting as a free air-shower. For one moment. One fleeting moment.

Whenever I see a bum fight, I name them. Woman Bum and her compatriot are Zuzka and Sheldon. Their foe is Gerald. So, after a certain amount of ape-like chest pounding and grunting by all involved, Zuzka takes a swing that connects with Gerald’s right cheek. He barks at them and drops the 238 shopping bags he’s got inside his third coat. Sheldon adds a hay-maker just for good measure that doesn’t do any damage. Gerald pops Zuzka in the nose with a lack of hesitation that bespeaks volumes of bum sexual equality.

A policeman appears with the sedentary gait peculiar to on-duty Czech policemen and digs into a hot dog. The fight continues to an anti-climactic finish. The grunts are indecipherable, however it is clear that they have made up since they all enjoy gulps from a box of wine and walk towards the metro arm in arm.

That is it. Aggression over.

The woman and I nod to each other and continue on our appointed paths. The bums get on my metro and talk and carry on as if old friends who weren’t just beating each others’ brains out. Throughout the night I think about the students who have pissed me off today and who are still invading my mind.

Maybe there is something to the bum fight beyond stinky and guilty entertainment. Maybe tomorrow I’ll buy a box of wine and invite an enemy for a boxing match in the courtyard. It might make me feel better.

It might get them out of my head.

What occupations need to fight? (ie: accountant vs. accountant or nun vs. nun)

 

 

  1. #1 by angela galeone on December 1, 2011 - 8:17 pm

    Loved it Dame and btw–boxed wine can be pretty good sometimes!!!

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