Given the “men get domestically abused too, but no one cares” trend lately, I’m happy to share this woman:
Looks so bedraggled, you’d think she got the beating. Nope!
This woman went straight to jail without collecting $200. But if you add another zero to that figure, that’s Alyssa Ferraro’s bail – for slapping her dude across the face during an intense match of Monopoly. And despite not bothering to pass go pre-handcuffs, her piece did manage to land on some internet infamy along the way.
One might wonder why the boyfriend both remained nameless and didn’t provide any details, but I tend to think it’s out of the same embarrassment that drives most men to never report domestic violence. Not to mention the ridiculous nature of the dispute in the first place. I’ve also punched (not just slapped) an ex before (to my shame) right in the face. In that relationship, most of our rows – including this one – were always about something stupid – be they disagreements over a movie premise or games like this one. And as soon as the dust settled, we’d brush it under the carpet. We never even bothered apologizing to eachother because it seemed so stupid in retrospect. Well, that, and we’d forgotten what the source of the spat even was to begin with. (hint: alcohol) And looking at this chick’s mug shot (and speaking from experience), I feel like it wouldn’t be a stretch to say there were a few spirits involved when homegirl blew a fuse and took out her repressed resentment for him leaving up the toilet seat or Dutch ovening her under the covers one too many times. Alcohol does that. It doesn’t always bring honesty to the surface in a coherent way. But it most definitely brings the honest emotions to the surface in a physical way (tears, screaming, violence). And, to be honest, I hope firewater was involved in this case. Otherwise, there’s just no excuse and the already exponentially diving curve on my “hope for humanity” graph will hafta stay its current course.
Which is why as Thanksgiving approaches, I’m both glad I’m sober and single.
Doesn’t sound exciting, but here’s why it is: ’cause while I may be among a few loved ones of my own under the influence of merlot-mind, my own will have devoted the entire day to cultivating enough of a sense of Zen so that when the board games come out I will 1.) have enough awareness to not get emotionally involved 2.) be able to remember it’s just a game (or conversation or whatever sparks drama). But (most importantly) 3.) I’ll be clear-headed enough to win every motherfckkn round and then pretend I’m being humble about it as my inner Spartan dances to the music of his own ‘roid-like battle cries. Oh, and lastly: 4.) I’ll be able to beeline to my car for a sober drive home before they start throwing bottles at each other.
Seems far more logical than a few hours sucking down Sauvignon and getting sucked into drama.
Win-win-win-win versus wine?
Those are odds you can’t beat. No matter how hard you slap.
*Turkey day update: Because my family was awesome and didn’t drink around me, we all tied at the table game. It was a word game and I didn’t win. So, right now, the one word from the game I recall best is “backfire”. Maybe I need to reevaluate my capacity to be around intoxicated people. For the sake of my ego.