I often get in between
of men fighting
in bars or cafés
I try to settle down
the fire in their bellies
I step in
Hold them
by the shoulder
and say something
of the sorts:

"Common guys,
you just had a little
much to drink.
we're all friends,
right?"

I've caught
some stray jabs
in the past
so now,
I'm quick on my feet
to step back
and raise my hands
showing I'm not
down for a brawl
not with drunks
at least.

"Get your hands
off my ******* neck!"

Said the last one
I tried to calm down.
He was drunk
and wanted to play
the drums by force.
There was
a karaoke band playing
and the drummer
was a woman
She called
men to the stage
I didn't hear her call
all I saw a
drunk Nordic tall and fatman
about to ruin
everyone's evening.

All of this
was none of my business
My woman scolds me
for getting
in the middle of things
that I might get hurt
and she might get hurt
and she has kids to take care of
and that she brought me
to that bar
and if we got hurt
it would make it her responsibility
all of which I completely dismissed
I didn't think that
it was that serious.

There was this other time
I was walking my dog
a black medium
schnauzer who
enjoyed resting
on the top of my
living room table.
I would walk him
everyday but this day
it was a different day
I walked by this white car
those white fancy cars
that you know are expensive
even if you are like me
and don't understand much
about cars.

"Help me!"
a man's voice yelled
from inside the tainted windows.
He sounded desperate
almost as if he had
a knife up to his throat.
"What's your problem
don't be stupid."
another deep voice said
a baritone's voice
he sounded stern and calm
it felt like controlled violence
like he had been holding
the knife for a while.

I didn't really care
if there was a knife involved
but it sounded serious
life or death
and I chose life
not of the man
who needed help
not of the one
who held the knife
but my own.
A classic case
of none of my business.
So, I just walked past the car
with my dog
didn't even look at the windows
and the dog finished
I went back home.
I backtracked
the car no longer there
I got to the building
climbed the stairs
and with each step
the idea of not caring
settled in my belly
and it didn't make me sick
and that bothers me
because it should've.
I got home
looked outside
my balcony
no trace of the white car.
I told my father about it
he told me it was probably
a gay couple
being a little too rough.