I had a man pinned down with his face pressed against the asphalt at a barbecue in Georgetown, Washington D.C. – July, 2007 and I was about to spank him in front of 45 people.

EARLIER….

Georgetown in July and August is like living inside of Vick’s Vaporizer with the swamp gas rising in the morning. When you think of D.C., you might think of the Washington Monument, museums, and overly horny politicians, BUT there is another side to the city and it is swampy and forested and that is where Washingtonians live. In fact, every neighborhood in DC looks more like the forest is trying to take the neighborhood back to when the World was young. Georgetown is even more like this because it is rife with ravines, towpaths, canals, and apartment buildings where the back doors look like they open to magical forests.

My apartment building was painted brick in the front and had a backyard area for garbage, barbecues, and a 50 yard long sloped driveway that fed all the way down to the towpath canal. The area was choked with trees and life. During cicada season, you could not see the ground and only heard the satisfying crunches as you made your way to the buses to take you downtown to make your living. I grew up not far from Georgetown and the memories were fresh and remain so today. The memories of my father were with me too- they were etched forever on my forehead, chin, back, and arms.

There had been a bad storm the week before and the city had lost power. I unfortunately had bought an entire month’s worth of beef, chicken, and pork. Without refrigeration, it was all going to spoil; so, I decided to have a barbecue for my entire building and feed the multitudes. People brought beer and wine and, as always, there was a group of people who snuck off to blow weed behind the oak trees. I semi-recognized everyone, but I didn’t know their names.
I was chatting with my neighbors and there was a girl about 25 feet away from our conversation. She was from a floor or two above me and she looked like the central casting version of a brown-haired sorority girl and she was beginning to scream at a man I did not recognize. It was then that another storm had come to D.C.- a hurricane – and it had my name.

I was upon them both in a moment and to this day I don’t remember the 25 feet I crossed to get to them. I found out later that as they started arguing, my face went blank as I went to them. I saw him grabbing her breasts and she yelled and hit his hands. I did not know if they were there together or not; so, I asked her:
“Do you need help?”
She was agitated and said, “Yes, Please.”
The distress, pleading, and humiliation on her face filled me with a distilled cold rage that I hadn’t felt since I saw my mother’s helpless face after my father had lost his temper- again.

He tried to get out a whole sentence:
“So what are you gonna do Faaaggo…..”

Too late, I had him already off his feet and arching through the air in a controlled body slam crash! He was no weakling; he was at least 5 feet 9 inches and worked out, but I’m a 200 pound Dago and bench press 250 Lbs. with ease. Important side note: If you’re gonna fight, fight. If you’re gonna shoot, shoot. AND if you’re gonna bodyslam a man into Georgetown’s finest asphalt – YOU JUST DO IT – NO TALKING. The air left his lungs. He was lucky his mouth didn’t make contact with the ground or the dental bills would’ve been immense. The 45 people at the barbecue went silent and stared agape at me and this subjugated man.

He tried to speak….”Fuck you…Faaaago….”
“Shhhhh….” I said as I chicken-winged his right arm with my right and used my left hand to push down on the side of his face slowly turning it so the sharp pebbles began to dig into the left side of his face.
“UGGHHHHHH…” He moaned.
“Shhhhh…” I said shaking my head like a didactic parent.

His right eye strained to its corner to look up at me.
“I’m going to let you go, but you are going to apologize to her (I turned my head to his victim), everyone here, leave and you will never return.” I said.
The girl stood up, took a breath, crossed her arms, and waited for his apology.
I turned his head so I could speak clearly.
“Fuck you….Whore!” He said.
The crowd made a collective wincing – “Ooooooh”
The Hurricane arrived.

In a split second, I decided his punishment with this logic: Blood for blood, pain for pain, and in his case: humiliation for humiliation.
“I’m gonna do what your Daddy shoulda done. I’m gonna take your pants down and spank your bare ass purple!” I said.
He began to studder.
“Y-y-y-y-y-y-you… w-w-w-w-w-w wouldn’t.” he said.
“Yes, I will.” I replied.
Everything was silent. There was no breathing, no crickets, no cicadas, no wind – just the rapt silence of the crowd and the forest herself.
I moved my knee to his back and brought my left hand to the waistband of his khaki shorts as I continued to use my right hand to keep pressing his face into the asphalt.
I grabbed his waistband firmly and gave it a shake before doing my windup.
Everyone inhaled with a collective gasp.
The eye of the Hurricane was directly overhead.
I began my wind up…..
“W-w-w-w-w-w-w-w-w-wait….” He begged.
I paused.
“Ok.”
He tried to bring air into his lungs. His right eye looked at his victim-
“I-I-I’m s-s-s-sorry I grabbed your titties.”
“And?” I asked firmly.
“A-a-and I’m s-s-s-sorry to all of you and I’ll never come back.” He said.
His eye looked at me and everyone else’s eyes looked at me, but they were all looking at the wrong person for the judgement. If they had looked at the right person, it would’ve never happened in the first place.
My head turned and I looked directly at Her.
Soon, everyone turned to look at her too.
My face was passive and I looked at her with my Italian inquisitive eyebrows and then I looked down briefly at him. His eye had welled with tears as his eye met with hers. My eyes returned to her.
She held his fate with the power of the Ancient Queens. She was biting her bottom lip and moving her eyes around with what I was sure was the same expression she had when she took the SATs. 
The Queen gave a brief nod. I returned it.
In one fluid motion, I had him on his feet and gave him a shove to his back. He stumbled then broke out to a full-on sprint. He got 30 yards away and turned back and shouted:
“Fuck you, faaago..”
I started to move towards him to finish my work and he bolted.
The Hurricane had passed. I made a brief sigh, went over to the picnic table, and pointed to the 2-liter Coke and a man met my gaze with his hand gesture saying – Sure– ALL YOURS!
I nodded at him, poured, took a swig, got up and went to the door. It was heavy and slammed behind me.
I waited a moment and then, I heard –
“Did that just fucking happen?!”
I shrugged, went back to my apartment, and went to bed.

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