The Donair Shop is Closed

Can you think of time, during the course of a previous or current relationship, when you have been mad dog mad for absolutely no reason? Fighting and disagreements are inevitable, big or small, it occurs. As much as the blame is put on women for raging without reason, I’m sure men can often think of a time when they thought, “why is she breathing like that??!” In my opinion I believe fighting (healthy fighting) is good for any relationship. Get it all out in the open, really figure the other person out and see through the fog of what the bottom line really looks like. In retrospect I do know a few of my couple friends who just do not fight, they disagree on nothing and completely oblige with the other person – no harm, no foul. However all relationships are different, a snowflake if you will; each one is never the same.

I love knowing how people handle arguments. I find it fascinating knowing what a person’s response to full-blown emotions is. Some of us walk away, throw our hands up and say I need a minute and others stay and grind it out. We throw out words we do or don’t mean and try and handle it. As much as each person can say I hate fighting it’s always the inevitable question, “so have you had your first fight yet?” What I love about fights or disagreements, should I rather, is that it can come from anywhere. One trigger word, phrase or situation and the inevitable swords or shank knives are drawn. Fighting with my ex's was usually a constant item on the weekly agenda; get my dry cleaning, go to practice, finish my homework and oh yea pick a fight with Kathleen. One of my favourite “fight” stories was when my ex decided to shave his Italian-German bread leg hairs in our bathtub. I remember working as a personal trainer and coming home in between clients to be gifted a hot, soothing shower. I opened the curtain door and to my dismay, what looked like a black lab had a buzz cut, was clogging up my bathroom drain. I ran out to the living where his pristine, radiantly glowing, freshly shaven legs were sitting cross-legged over my coffee table. I yelled, I screamed, I called him names…and what did he do; nothing. Because that’s how he fought, he ignored, he also didn’t think this was as big of an issue as I did. Out of shear distain I ignored him back for three days until I gave it up and called a loss a loss.

One of my favourite couple fight story is from my friend Vanessa. I have permission to reiterate this tale, although Vanessa tells it way better than I, so here it goes. One fine weekend, Vanessa and her BFF Brittany decide to go away with their boyfriends as they accompanied John and Bill (these are fake names), respectively, to Edmonton to watch their favourite hockey teams battle for victory. While entering their destination a pre-fight prefacing the hockey game occurred and the four-some headed to the stadium already engulfed in rage. In an attempt to be vengeful, John decides to get rip-roarin’ drunk but hasn’t a dime on him. The only logical decision he could think of was to ask Brittany for $60 bucks; in a “fuck it whatever” kind of mood she gives it to him. As the game heads into intermission the girls and Bill go to find the illicit John and witness him, not only on the verge of becoming blackout drunk, but buying other girls drinks and hitting on them. Brittany and Bill continue to fight more, until herself and Vanessa decide to “fuck this shit” and bail. The girls leave Bill and John to fend for their selves and head for less dramatic pastures. Both, Vanessa and Brittany, have a couple drinks attempt to de-stress and grab deliciously handcrafted, donair sauce infused, you guessed it, donairs. The girl’s head back to the hotel to be greeted with one out of the two boys. Brittany and Bill crawl into bed, awkwardly try and make conversation without obviously showing their pure distain for one another. While Vanessa quietly eats her donair sitting at a desk with one single lamp on adjacent to her with the rest of the hotel lights off. The mood was finally mellow, Vanessa was enjoying her donair almost forgetting what a money borrowing, girl-flirting with; drunken fool her boyfriend was, when through the door he came! John staggered in. Stumbling over shoes at the front door, he muttered words underneath his breath I don’t think even he knew. Vanessa sat calmly at the desk eating her donair as if not even to notice John, until she finally caught his attention. Regaining a portion of his balance, he stepped closer to Vanessa. Bringing his head towards her ear, Vanessa smelt the whiskey soaked breath of a man she called her boyfriend, as he whispered, “The donair shop is closed.” John proceeded to click off the lamp beside Vanessa, leaving the donair to be eaten in complete darkness.

When I heard this story for the first time I laughed so hard tears streamed down my face. I thought it was hysterical. I asked her what she did when John turned the light off and she was sitting in the pitch black only to hear the snickering of Brittany and Bill behind her. Vanessa replied, “what could I do, I just kept eating my donair in the dark. I wasn’t going to let that go to waste!” Fair enough I thought, fair enough.

XOXO Witty Kitty