A couple weeks ago, I was at a bonfire, as a going away function for a friend. All was well, when all of a sudden, a beach-bum decides to crash our bonfire. The gang of friends sit silent and do their best to ignore Him, as he mumbles random facts about Kurt Cobain, the weather, t-shirts, and straight-up living the "high" life. He seemed to be enjoying himself and not having a care in the world. He got so comfortable the bum began to take off his clothes; he says he was, warming himself better for the fire.
All this time nobody did, or said anything. People near me were complaining and cussing, but still nobody did a thing. I could only sit silently in the sand for so long, when I just could not take it anymore. I felt like I was being sat on by a fat-ass who had sandwich in his back pocket.
"Hey, my man!" I said. (I tried to sound cool, but firm like a Dad who has a very "pretty" daughter) The bum was babbling on about stuff and I did not grab his attention. So I turned up my intensity in tone and repeated myself, "Hey my man!"
Now he was listening to me. He had to this time, because I even walked up to him and got in his face.
People walk around with what they think people are, but not the truth. Everyone was afraid of the bum, but He was just like the rest of us, lost, scared, and confused.
As I had my arm around his shoulder, I took him aside and told him straight up: "No disrespect, but this here is a private function, and we'd like to keep it just with the close friends."
So I turned to my friend to hand him a beer, and we sent him on his way. The bonfire resumed and everything went back to normal. But that confrontation revealed a nasty truth to me.
We could have all been cool and included the beach-bum in our little soiree. But with so many minds not trying to have it, I felt that to best neutralize the situation, I had to politely send him on his way.
In the future, If you may come across an uncomfortable/awkward situation, just face the problem straight-up with clear communication. Sometimes it takes courage to do what's right.
But that is the sad truth: we are afraid to do what is right.