getting knocked around

I watched a fight at work tonight. A guy was punching a woman. The cops came, the woman didn't press charges, etc, etc. They were both drunk. One went to detox, one took a nap. But they were both back in the building within five hours like nothing ever happened. I talked to the woman after. I said, "How do you feel? How's your face?" She lifted her bangs off her forehead and turned her face from side to side so I could see. No cuts, no bruises. She smiled and rolled her eyes. He hit her hard but she seemed unphased. Of course she was phased. Everybody was phased. They just don't show it.

Tonight I wanted to hug everybody because everybody seemed so dear for some reason. I wanted to hug the drunk woman and I wanted to hug the drunk guy. I wanted to hug the client who sat alone and squeezed mayo on his cole slaw and I wanted to hug Fat Tony who told me incredible stories from his days on fire crew, about how beautiful and immense forest fires are. I wanted to hug the young mother-to-be. I wanted to hug the woman who is hardly around, but who came to check her mail and didn't have any. I wanted to hug the nurse. I wanted to hug SK. Everybody in that building gets knocked around a little bit every day. Everybody on this *planet* gets knocked around every day. And, consequently, everybody ought to get hugged a little bit every day too. To balance things out.