Recently, somebody pointed a weapon at me in a dive bar in Wisconsin.
My buddy Jake and I were on a trip, and he had a hankering for his preferred beer, so we drove across the Illinois-Wisconsin border to get it.
As he did this, he smiled and angled the gun sideways, accidentally pointing it in the direction of where I was sitting. I saw this, glanced at my buddy, and both of our eyes expanded.
As we sipped our Spotted Cows, we observed a young guy taking shots with a handful of other guys, who were all taking a break from playing pool. Then, that exact same boy strolled behind the bar and started serving a number of other customers. Oh, I believed, hes the bartender.
As he began to talk to the two men he d just served, his speech slurred and he made grand gestures with his hands while talking loudly. Oh, I thought, hes intoxicated. As he spoke with these guys while clearing empty pints off the bar, he reached in his waistband and pulled out a pistol.
” Excuse me,” Jake said to the bartender, “did you understand you simply pointed a gun at my pal?”
The bartender, still smiling, walked over and stated calmly, “Do we have an issue here?”
Now, to be reasonable, he assured us the gun didnt have a live round in the chamber however plenty in the clip. I matured around weapons, so it didnt seem like a life-threatening scenario. A drunk bartender waving around a weapon at midnight does not necessarily supply the biggest comfort.
I didnt see any. And isnt that what the bad person often says in the motion pictures: “Im doing this for your own excellent, itll be worth it in the end, simply trust me”?
We all do this, naturally. We presume we are the ones on the ideal side of history, those safeguarding the innocent, the heroes of the story. It is hard, if not impossible, for our egos to develop that we may, in truth, be the bad guy– or that reality might be a bit more intricate than that.
The next day, I thought of what he said: Im one of the great men.
The fact is it wasnt that mans task to be “among the great men,” to presume the position of hero. We were his patrons, his customers, and he existed to serve us. Not … well, shoot us in the face.
” Oh, no. You do not comprehend. You see, weve had a lot of problems in this location lately, and this is for your protection. Im here for your security. Im one of the heros.”
” Im here for your protection,” he kept stating. “Im one of the heros. Youre safe here.”
Yes, Im being a little melodramatic here, however hopefully, you see my point. We didnt need a cowboy. We required a bartender.
My good friend never backed down from his position that perhaps you should not pull out a weapon in public when there is no noticeable threat. Ultimately, seeing the circumstance was not going to be fixed, we left, as the bartender tossed insults and obscenities at us, informing us to never return.
” Yeah, we do. You pointed a weapon at my friend.”
My buddy said he didnt feel really safe with a male pointing a weapon at his clients. The bartender continued to duplicate that he was, in reality, a servant of individuals and we owed him our lives for safeguarding us from the riff-raff.
Heres my obstacle to you and me:
We dont need you to wave a gun around and demonstration that were all safe here. Put away the weapon.
When we believe about the work we do and the impact we desire, lets consider how we may be taking the wrong position here. We do not need you to wave a weapon around and protest that were all safe here. You are the helper, the guide, the one who assists others feel safe.
You just have to let go of the story in your head that states you need to be saving someone right now. Be the bartender. Put away the weapon.
Now, to be fair, he guaranteed us the weapon didnt have a live round in the chamber but plenty in the clip. I grew up around guns, so it didnt feel like a lethal circumstance. A drunk bartender waving around a weapon at midnight does not always provide the greatest convenience.