Chivalry Reports from the Front

With Chivalry in Intensive Care and all (see previous entry: Dead Languages), we felt a report from the front was in order. Trained professionals advise me that Chivalry’s condition remains critical. These few brave souls are trying their best to save Chivalry and us from a life of doors slammed in our faces, “dutch” first dates, hats at the dinner table, and other such atrocities. A number of ladies are keeping vigil, hoping, wishing, praying………

I saw Chivalry staggering down 6th Avenue just the other day.

After leaving my apartment building, I headed north to catch the train at W4th. And he immediately caught my eye. A disheveled middle-aged man with a tight black t-shirt on that read: “I Support” (“I Support” what I wondered) leaned – almost lay really – across the top one of those newspaper racks where you can grab a free classified listing or some other random periodical. He was mumbling to himself. This, coupled with the fact that his face looked like he had survived about forty years of whiskey-blinding nights (of twenty-first birthday intensity), led me to believe he was drunk. As I approached the corner, he somehow dragged himself up on his elbows. He twisted his red face and strained to focus his eyes. “Evening m’am,” he muttered as he lifted his cap by the brim. He tipped it in my direction. I smiled. I turned around for one last glance at this gentleman only to see the top of his head; the rest of him was buried in a garbage can, vomiting.

Ah, hindsight. The cryptic “I Support” message on his shirt is now crystal clear. “I Support” what? “I Support” Chivalry, of course. Be still your leaping, tumbling, fluttering hearts, ladies.