"C'mon Nancy-boy..." (It's horribly long!)

While my sister and BIL’s jerky behavior is fresh in your minds (last post), I want to share a story about something I shouldn’t have done (and hopefully you’ll let me off the hook). =)

Background: This BIL is misogynistic, racist, homophobic and he’s proud of it. If you’re not a white male, you’re inferior. He refers to all Hispanics (and some Asians) as “Mexicans” because it’s “easier”. Gays deserve to be mistreated. His favorite insult is to call men by women’s names, implying they’re gay. Because, you know, what’s a bigger insult than that? (I know some guys do that to tease friends, but that’s not what he’s doing.)

My brother’s wife wanted him to have a nice birthday. So she invited the family to dinner at his favorite restaurant—a Japanese steakhouse. She even invited that sister and BIL. I was 14 when I met the guy and I knew right away he was a jerk--you couldn't miss it! But my parents put up with him because he had more than two nickels to rub together—and they wanted the rest of us to put up with him too. Peace was top priority. After they passed away, my wife’s fingernails in my arm or leg helped me continue to bite my tongue.

I lucked out at dinner. We were in a private room with two cooking surfaces and my BIL was at the other table on the opposite side. I didn’t have to hear him and my vegetable fried rice was great. Towards the end of dinner, I excused myself to visit the men’s room. On my way there I passed my nephew. He was very upset. Apparently the BIL had been harassing the chef at their table. The gentleman was Asian, but the BIL kept calling him “Jose”, asking him if he had his green card, and threatening to have him deported to Mexico. He'd done much worse in the past, but it still made me angry. My nephew asked me not to make a scene.

I wasn’t sure if I could stay there and bite my tongue, again! I’d used up all the patience I had for that guy. When I got back to the table I gave my brother his present, gave his wife money for dinner, and very quietly thanked my BIL for ruining the party (for everyone at his table) with his racist remarks. Then my wife and I headed home. We talked as we drove and I told her that someday I needed to tell that jerk off good and proper. Then I wondered aloud if I was calm enough to do it “now”. My wife said, “I think you are!” So I turned the car around. We were only a mile from the restaurant.

There was a parking spot right in front of the restaurant, so clearly the universe wanted me to go in. I headed for the private room, but my wife stopped near the bar area to talk with my oldest sister (she LOVES to be referred to that way). Dinner was over and my BIL was talking to my brothers. I joined their conversation. Okay, I interrupted their conversation. I shook my BIL’s hand and said, “With all due respect (which I meant in the traditional way—no respect), I’ve listened to your ignorant, racist, homophobic comments long enough. I’m done. From now on, keep it to yourself.” He claimed he had no idea what I was talking about. I looked to my brothers for corroboration—we’d had 100 conversations about it. One brother looked at his shoes, the other at the ceiling, both with goofy grins. I guess I caught them off-guard.

Disappointed, I turned to my BIL and told him I’d said my peace and I expected him to keep his ugly remarks to himself. He just stood there looking at me with his hands in his pockets. I headed towards the door. But just before I reached it, my BIL said, “You have a problem Shirley!” My brain exploded. He was right—and now he did too. There was NO WAY I was going to let him offend the Toothfairy by using her name as an insult. {Actually, I didn’t know TF yet—I miss her.}

I stalked back towards him, fists ready, steam coming out of my ears. My sister-in-law said she’d never seen anything like it. My brothers got between us, but I was focused on my BIL’s hands. I challenged him to fight and wanted him to raise his hands to defend himself (I could shove the brothers out of the way). He didn’t, he just stood there with his hands still in his pockets. I tried to bait him by "insulting" him on his level. I said, “C’mon Nancy-boy, take your hands out of your pockets. Let’s go!” He refused and I knew the moment had passed. I warned the BIL to keep his mouth shut and I headed for the door again. He didn’t say a word this time. Unfortunately, my wife missed the whole thing.

As we were driving home, I got a terrible pain in my chest. I wondered if I’d gotten so angry I was having a heart attack. But it was a different kind of pain. Disappointment. While things were still civil, neither brother backed me up when the BIL denied his ugly comments and behavior. They had complained about that guy for YEARS, but just stood there grinning when the time came to speak up. That gave him the opportunity to claim innocence.

When we got home, I was still too angry to go inside. So I went for a walk. While I circled the block, my wife received a play-by-play over the phone from our sister-in-law. Apparently she and her kids thought it was great. They had been waiting for someone to tell that BIL off (I got 2 cakes on Father’s Day that year). My sister called the next day to apologize for her husband’s behavior. I got the feeling she was waiting for me to apologize too. I didn’t.

A few weeks later the family gathered for a wedding. I was feeling playful at the reception, so every once in a while I furrowed my brow and headed for my BIL. It really made my sisters nervous. They didn’t catch on, even after I’d start laughing and stop to talk with someone else. I did make small talk with the BIL that day—life goes on. The silver lining to my tantrum is that he has been a perfect gentleman ever since.


PS - (As if this needs to be longer) Except for the guy who asked me (3 times) to hit him, I've never started a fight. So please don't get the idea I go around threatening to punch people. I'm mild-mannered. =)