When I was much younger, a friend of mine — a customer — was married to this guy who used to beat the crap out of her pretty much on a daily basis.  I hated that guy … just because I felt he was a total pansy to beat on a woman like that.

     One day, I went over there working on their computers, and he delivered a fist to her face while she was sitting at the kitchen table, just a few feet away from me.  She fell on me.
     I beat his sorry ass.
     And guess what I got for the privilege?

     Yep …

     Her ass beating on me.

     A couple years later, I went over there, and he hit again.  Right in front of me.  But he didn’t stop there… He picked up an iron skillet and began beating her in the head over and over…

     While their kids watched…

     So I carried one of the kids to their bedroom and put him in his crib, and talked the other two into going to bed early.

     Then I proceeded to destroy his sorry ass.

     It was fun…

     Beat him within an inch of death, in fact.

     But then, I turned back to her, still struggling to get up off the kitchen floor.  I screamed at her for being so stupid.  And in retrospect, I shouldn’t have.
     But the questions I was screaming … How could she put her kids through that?  How could let them watch all of that?  What kind of mother was she?

     I called another friend of mine, who lived close, and together, we packed her stuff and drove her out of state to live with her mother.

     She hates me, still.

     And this is precisely why Cops don’t like taking Domestic Violence calls… Those women most always seem to defend the bastards who put them through the most Hell…

     But at some point, with a lot of caring and understanding, they do get over it.

     Or, at least, you hope they do.