"Whatta man, whatta man, whatta man, whatta mighty good man"--Salt N Pepa

It's a sleepy Friday so howsabout you crawl into my lap and I'll tell you a story? *oof* Just watch the elbows.

Many years ago, I was in my mid-twenties, coming off a bad marriage, fairly new to the area and to my job, and living in my own little apartment. It was pretty low on the fancy amenities scale, but it had one thing going for it: it was mineminemine.*

I decided to throw a party and invited a college friend, Herman, down from Jersey** for the weekend. I spread the word and bought official party food (Ruffles and Molson) and even bought some records to play. Herman informed me that this was a mistake. No one wanted to hear a whole side of a Thompson Twins record. No indeed. He brought mix tapes and saved the party.

My boyfriend of a few months (read: rebound), Kevin, came over early. In hindsight, he wasn't a very good match for me but at the time I was one smitten kitten. I was hoping Herman would like my new beau. I wanted to feel good about my choices again after making such a dismally bad choice (my former husband). But, no. Herman and Kevin were sizing each other up in that icky way straight men do from the first moment they saw each other.

Party time (excellent) came and I was pleased that so many of my new friends showed. There were probably about twenty-five of us in my little apartment and we spilled out onto the balcony which looked down onto the parking lot. It was a first floor apartment and [key point -->] over twenty feet up from ground level.

I'd invited a co-worker, Rob. Rob had a really bad crush on Susie, who was about 15 years his senior by the way.*** He followed her around all night like a puppy begging for a Milkbone. ****

The beer flowed and the talk flowed and the music flowed and at some point somebody pointed out that there was a tow truck down in the parking lot and a car was being towed. Susie realized it was her car, parked illegally in a reserved spot. Susie called down to the tow truck operator to stop, she'd be right down. As you might expect, the tow truck operator ignored her. She headed out the door.

Rob, seeing his chance to play the hero, but having twelve too many beers to see the flaw in his plan, figured it would be quicker to get to the tow truck operator by going over the balcony railing. He nearly did, too. He scrambled up onto the balcony railing, all the while shouting that he'd be right there. Rob was about to jump off when Kevin wrapped his arms around Rob's waist and pulled him back, with a simple "You don't want to do that, Rob."

Susie had to pay the tow truck operator to get her car back and, crisis ended, the party continued into the night. When everybody left and Herman and I were cleaning up...

Me: So, what did you think of Kevin?
Herman: Mm. I wasn't impressed.
Me: You found nothing to like about him?
Herman: *pause* Sorry.
Me, *pouting*:
Herman, *grudgingly*: Okay, there was something.
Me *beaming*:
Herman: The way he wrapped his arms around Rob and pulled him off the railing, that was quick thinking. I liked that. That was something.
Me: ...well... yeah!

That was something.

We see stuff happen all the time, and even as we known it shouldn't be happening, we don't often move quickly enough to stop it. Kevin did. His instincts kicked in and, in that instant, he acted. He saved Rob from, at a minimum, a broken ankle. I don't think Rob ever thanked him. I don't think Kevin ever expected to be thanked. He just did what needed to be done.

Kevin broke my heart a few months later but on that night I was proud of him.



* And the landlord's.

** There's nothing "New" about it.

*** Can I get an "Amen" for older women?

**** Too easy?