This is the third part of a three-part story that describes the same events from three different perspectives. It won't make any sense unless you have first read "Point of View: His" and "Point of View: Hers." This is a work of fiction and any similarity to actual persons or events is coincidental.
*
"Eric! You're here after all. Natalie and I were about to give up on you. By the way, the next round is on you."
"Fair enough. Order what you want, friends. Any bottled beer."
"It has to be bottled? We've been drinking draft."
"Eric is cheap, Natalie. He's famous for it. Watch closely when he opens his wallet. You'll see moths fly out of it."
"I am not cheap. I'm poor. There's a difference."
"Just ignore Rob's teasing, Eric. He teases me too."
"Oh I know that. Rob's teasing me for 15 years, Natalie. I just tease him back. That's why we're still friends."
"Good and by the way, Robert; Eric is poor for all the right reasons."
"I know. I know. He's the noble doctor working in the ghetto clinic. Seriously, though, Eric, you've done enough for society. It's about time you set up a practice in the suburbs. You can tell your patients to take two aspirin and call you in the morning. Then charge their insurance company $1000."
"Rob has a point, Eric, why don't think of yourself for a change? Have you ever thought of leaving the clinic and setting up a practice where the patients actually pay you?"
"Have I ever thought about? Not too often, two or three times a day, max. Plus every time the old Honda won't start and every time some junkie breaks into the clinic and demands drugs."
"Then why don't you?"
"Well, working at the free clinic is no way to get rich, that's for sure. I get paid the same as everyone else that works there including the receptionist, the nurses, and the janitor. And, I tell you, Natalie, if there was another doctor ready to take my place there, I'd leave. But there's no one else who will do it and I can't just walk away from those people. They need me."
"Watch out, Natalie, Eric's setting up for lecture number 23 about the failings of America's health care system. It's a great cure for insomnia."
"Actually, I don't want to think about medicine or my poverty tonight. What were you guys talking about before I got here?"
"Rob was telling me about the last time he was in a physical fight."
"I think I've heard that story. You beat up two marines and a lumberjack, right Rob? Or was it a longshoreman and a couple of Mafia goons? I forget."
"Ha ha. Very funny. It was actually a fight that broke out in a baseball game, and I
did
knock down two of the other team's guys."
"Oh, that's right. I knew it was two or three of
something
. Tell me, did the other team's bat boy cry when you knocked him down?"
"Funny! Funny! You should be a comedian."
"What about you, Eric, when was the last time you had to punch someone?"
"Actually, Natalie, it was only a couple of years ago and it is quite a story. But I'm not sure I should tell it in front of my buddy's girlfriend. There's some sex in it."
"I'm a big girl, Eric. And now I definitely want to hear it."
"So do I and how come you've never told me about this before?"
"Well, I feel kind of guilty about it, so I never told anyone before."
"Noble Doctor Eric feels guilty about something? This sounds better and better. We're listening. Spill."
"Ok. Rob, do you remember Kyong — the woman I was seeing for a while a couple of years back? We split just before you met Natalie."
"Kyong?"
"I probably called her Ky-aji."
"Oh, yeah, I remember now. She lived in the same building with you. Very beautiful gal. Chinese."
"Korean."
"Whatever."
"Well, anyway, we were pretty hot and heavy there for a while. But I ended it, or tried to, because there was no future to the relationship."
"Why not?"
"It was basically just pure lust on both our parts, not love. The sex was great — better than great — but we were incompatible in every other way. Kyong came from a family of bigwigs in Korea, and she was quite a status snob. She would never buy anything unless it was the most famous brand. She followed that rule for clothes, food, appliances, everything. Sometimes I'd make suggestions to help her save money: like, I'd say 'Get this brand of toaster or get this kind of spaghetti. It is cheaper.' But she would say 'No, is for common.', which was her way of saying 'that's for common people'. Whenever she wanted to put down something, she'd say 'Is for common.' When she said this, she'd kind of wave her hand at the thing like she was brushing it away. She was also very materialistic. She told me many times that she would never marry a man as poor as me. She wanted to marry a rich man. And one day she even specified that it had to be an
Asian
man."
"Wait. She was rejecting you because of your
race
?"
"Yep. Mostly for my poverty, but partly for my race. That surprised me, too. I know there are people for whom racial discrimination is an everyday occurrence, but it was the first -- only -- time it had ever happened to me. I was stunned at first and then infuriated. That was the first time I tried to break up with her, but I couldn't make it stick."
"Why not?"
"Well, that's where the lust comes in."
"Her's or yours?"
"Both. I'd break it off, but since we lived on the same floor, I'd pass her in the hallway now and then. She'd always say something flirty and she'd start wearing something seductive, like tight sweat pants or hot pants, to walk to the mailboxes at the end of the hallway. I think she dressed that way deliberately in case I was in the hallway at the same time. This would go on for maybe a couple of weeks. I didn't have anyone else in my life at the time, so I would get pretty horny. So one day we'd be passing in the hall, say 'hello', and before I knew it we'd be grabbing each other and we'd run into her apartment or mine and rut like rabbits. Then we'd be together again for a few weeks, until she'd start complaining about how junky my car is or about how I couldn't afford to take her to any place expensive. When her materialism got to be more than I could stand, I'd try to break up with her again. We just kept repeating that cycle for months."
"Aren't you supposed to be telling us about a fight?"
"Patience, my dear Robert, patience."
"Let him talk, Rob."
"Thank you, Natalie. Now where was I? Oh, yeah. Well, one day just after I'd broken up with her for the umpteenth time, I saw her brought home by this Asian guy. They'd obviously just been on a date. They started seeing each other. I never met him, but he had an expensive car and expensive suits, and he was kind of snooty to me if I passed him, so I figured he was just the guy for Kyong. Sure enough, the next time I ran into Kyong in the parking lot, she told me she was engaged to the guy."
"Were you jealous?"
"Just the opposite, Natalie. I was relieved. I figured she'd stop trying to seduce me and I'd be free of her at last. It almost worked. For a month after her engagement, we had nothing to do with one another except to say 'hello' in the hallway. But then she started in again with the seductive clothes and the flirting. Well, like Rob said, she was beautiful and I was weak, so we had another session of great sex. After it was over, I asked her what the deal was with the flirting and sexy clothes when she was engaged to another man. She was kind of vague, but I got the sense that her fiancé wasn't too hot in bed. We agreed that it would never happen again, but it did. Every couple of weeks, when he wasn't around, we'd go at it. What can I say? I was horny. I'd have felt bad for the guy if he hadn't been so snooty to me."
"Are we getting to the fight soon? Because even though sitting around talking about relationships is one of my favorite things to do, as Natalie will tell you, I'm really looking forward to hearing about the fight."
"He's joking, Eric. He hates talking about relationships."
"I know, Natalie. I've known him longer than you. And yes, Rob, we're getting to the fight. But I should explain first that my neighborhood is a training neighborhood for the U.S. Postal Service. New postmen from around the region are brought here to be trained, so we don't have a regular postman for our building. We get a new trainee every other week. The trainees make a lot of mistakes. So the people in my building frequently find each other's mail in our mailboxes. The boxes are locked, so we can't put the mail in the correct box. For that reason, we have a tradition in the building: when one of us gets another's mail, we slip it under the apartment door of the person it belongs to."
"And then you all get together and beat up the mailman, right?"
"Wrong, Rob."
"Rob, let the man talk."
"So one day there was a letter for Kyong in my mailbox. On my way back to my apartment I stopped at her door to slip the mail under it. But the door was open, so I knocked instead. Kyong came to the door and I handed her the mail. I was going to be polite and chat for a minute about the weather but she immediately started whispering to me to go. I was just about to leave when the Asian guy comes to the door beside her. So I introduce myself and stick out my hand to, you know, shake hands. And get this, the guy refuses to shake hands with me!"
"Why?"
"He said something like I was harassing Kyong, and then he folds his arms and says he won't shake my hand."
"What did you do?"
"I slugged him. It happened so fast, even I was kind of surprised, but I was never so angry in my life. I don't know why, but the disrespect he was giving me was enraging."
"So how did he react?"
"Actually, my punch knocked him down. I think he was kind of stunned. When he got up again, I slugged him again. I was still angry. I was kind of on autopilot. My anger was in charge. I got this idea in my head that I was going to teach this guy to have a little respect for me. I didn't have money or status or the other things he'd instinctively respect, but I had muscles. The guy was lying on the floor stunned. I shut the door and dragged him over to a radiator and tied him up."
"You tied him up?!?!?!"
"Could you say that a little louder, Rob, so the people at the other end of the tavern can hear you?"
""Ok. Sorry. But ... well, just go on."
"Yeah, well, I tied him up with his necktie and then I gagged him with a sock and a scarf."
"You gagged him?!?!"
"Ok, the people at the other end heard you that time. Thanks."
"Alright. Sorry, but ... I mean ... really. Isn't that a little ... like ...
illegal
?"
"No ... I mean ... maybe ... Well, yeah, I guess technically it was."
"
Technically
?!?
TECHNICALLY
?!?"
"Ok, ok, lower your voice. It was illegal! Happy now, Rob?"
"Wait a second, you guys. Time out. Something's puzzling me: where was Kyong while you were beating, tying, and gagging her fiancé?"
"Funny thing, Natalie, she was telling me to stop and kind of pounding her fists on my back, but she was pretty quiet about it and mainly she was just watching."
