Bad Taste

I was sitting around idly with some friends of mine in a coffee shop the other day, when a fight broke out just two tables away from me!!!

It was a bright afternoon, and that was not a very crowded place. Occupancy of the shop was roughly about 40%. Karen sat in front of me. I was talking to her half-heartedly, while my mind wondered to my work.

At one point, I jerked my head up to a shadow behind me. I do not usually do this, and I do not usually take note of the people around me. But for some reasons, I jumped a little when this man walked up behind me, and I took a good look at him.

That was an ordinary man. Thin, fair and medium height. He had curly hair, which was rather unusual for a chinese, and he wore glasses, those old-fashioned type of glasses. He was in a rather plain, white-washed, yet clean shirt. He had on his face, a rather stern and grumpy look. I did not think of him as aggressive then. But thinking back, he did look a little dark in his expression, like he was quite unhappy with something.

It was a hot afternoon, and Karen was talking about buying chocolate from the airport.

No, you don't need to buy it from the airport. It's much cheaper here in a supermarket.

Oh, yeah?

Yeah... Go to DPS, it's right across the road. The chocolates there are much cheaper.

OK.

Karen and her sister left a short while later, while I continued to sit idly listening to the others talk. Oh, it was a hot and lazy afternoon.

*Pang!!!!*

For one moment, every eyes were trained at the source of the sound. It was the unhappy man. He was with a bunch of people, having his lunch, and there was another older man sitting right beside him. Unhappy man was staring at this older man with intense eyes and tightly-sealed lips.

Then another man in black sitting across those two stood up and came over to this side of the table. He mumbled something in his mouth, pulled the chairs and table away, and started punching the older man in his ears.

The older man did not make a sound.

The only sould that I could hear was the sound of flesh hitting flesh.

We sat stock still at the sight of that. Inside me, there were two voices. One told me to duck and leave then, as quietly as possible. The other part of me was actually aroused with all the excitement from the fight. I was not too sure what to do then.

At least I knew that I was still a safe distance away.

The man in black then lifted his knee and brought the older man's head down to it. It was then that the older man gave out a sort of sobbing sound. He was still sitting in his chair.

Another man took a chair and threw it at the older man.

A waiter came up to our side and motioned for us to leave, quietly.

So, we left.

But whatever I saw back there, left a very bad taste in my mind after.

Even to this day, which was about a week later, I still could feel that air of hostily and danger whenever I thought back to that incident. The intensity of it weighs down on my heart wherever I go, and whenever I am alone.

This cannot be good. Fighting can never be good.