Whoever wins, we lose

Last night, after getting back from a long walk around town, my friend invited me to meet up with some people at one of the local pubs. Having never been to this place before, and not quite ready for bed, I was game. Alas, my night was cut short by one of the most regrettable scenes I've had the misfortune to be around.

The pubs in London, by law, have to close early (I believe it is at 11). So by the time we got there about quarter past, the people we were looking for were soused and milling around the sidewalk. Since I'm in England, I think I'll honor the monarchy and claim that I was using the royal "we", because I didn't actually know any of the guys we met up with. And for this I'm glad, because if nothing else it gives me some plausible deniability for what transpired next.

Within four minutes of my arrival, two guys from the group started having an argument with a guy on the sidewalk. "Hey", you are probably saying, "that isn't unusual, guys get into arguments and fights all the time when the bars are clearing out." Now all this is true. But most people don't end up getting into arguments about how America and Britain have each fared in past wars. And most people don't find themselves arguing with drunken homeless guys. And they usually don't gang up on them, either. Yup, that was about the way it went down: two drunken American guys (I think they were both about 19) got into an argument with a drunkard about past military victories, going all the way back to the 17th century. I think the low point was when the American guys started gloating about the number of Brits the Nazis killed. They were almost giddy with joy at the thought of dead Londoners.

Does it get any more sad than that? Somebody hurry up and put a tent on that circus, because the clowns are already here.

Watching all this, I was torn. I wanted to step in and put a stop to the bickering, but by doing so it would be an admission that I knew someone involved in this embarassing display. What to do, what to do? I managed to ease away from the arguing, so that the casual passersby wouldn't know that I was part of this group. Finally I just left and walked back to my flat by myself. That little display just set back the notion of international relations back about 1000 years.

Lord. A drunkard and two frat guys arguing on the street.

Whoever wins, we lose.