To refrain from evil and from strong drink and to be always steadfast in virtue; this is the good luck.
Tonight was the highly anticipated New Year’s Eve party at St M’s house. Everything went well with the dinner, much food was consumed and much chat was made. Here’s a shot of the post-dinner tableau:
And, about 10 mins after I took the above picture, chaos struck. The significant other of one of our group called. He told her that her bird had flown off and that he couldn’t find it (actually, it’s a she-bird). We couldn’t get a straight story from him and none of the animal rescue groups in town would help.
So, three of us went out to try and find the bird. Once we arrived, it was immediately apparent that the significant other had been drinking copiously and wouldn’t be of much (read: any) help. We split up, one of the knitters and I scouted out the neighborhood and actually managed to narrow down the area to search – because we could hear the bird calling (seemingly in distress). I made the mistake of suggesting that the significant other come to where we were and call to the bird. As he was more trusted by the bird at home.
It all went downhill from there. I won’t go into details, but he insulted and threatened both me (and the knitter with whom I was searching for his bloody bird) with physical violence. He even grabbed me, wrenched me around and shoved me back towards their townhouse, demanding that I leave because I was “scaring the bird”. The knitter with me panicked and yelled at him, and the co-owner of the bird actually blocked him from hurting her. I then ordered the knitter in question to come to me so we could leave. He kept screaming at us as we walked away.
Luckily no one was hurt. I still can’t believe how calm I am, and wonder if I’m in shock. Both of the girls started crying when we arrived back at St M’s – we had left, quickly, after deciding it wasn’t safe to remain anywhere near the lunatic. I tried to calm them both down, and eventually succeeded (thankfully, people crying always freaks me out). St M and her mother were particularly good at calming them.
By the time we arrived back at St M’s, it was after 10pm PST. Both girls called their mothers. I am quite angry with the mother of the bird’s owner. She insisted that the girl go back and find the bird, because the bird didn’t deserve to die. Yeah, well, the girl-in-question deserves to avoid domestic violence. Fuck the bird.
The troubling thing (other than the whole damn experience) is that the significant other of the bird’s owner has never behaved this way before, in her company anyway (hell, I always thought he was a great guy). St M, her mother, several knitters, my mother AND I all believe that she should not return to the house alone.
We’ve agreed to meet her tomorrow morning, at dawn, to look for the bird one last time. There’s a slim chance that the bird will survive the night.
Oh, and Crimson texted me, so now I have her phone number, mwahaha! (it also really helped cheer everyone up, btw. It distracted them for a little while, at least – that and the fact that I, knit geek extraordinaire, couldn’t figure out how to send a reply amused the hell outta everyone. just had to mention that)
I’m frozen to the bone and expected to be up and around in 5 hours. So, in conclusion, I quote the immortal words of Denis Leary, “Happy Fucking New Year”.