Myrtle's Rhinoplasty Insurance

"Some time toward midnight Tom Buchanan and Mrs. Wilson stood face to face discussing, in impassioned voices, whether Mrs. Wilson had any right to mention Daisy's name.

'Daisy! Daisy! Daisy!' shouted Mrs. Wilson. 'I'll say it whenever I want to! Daisy! Dai –– '

Making a short deft movement, Tom Buchanan broke her nose with his open hand" (2.125-127).

What I was thinking...
What gives a woman the right to tauntingly speak to me that way? Does she even have the slightest idea who I am? I am Tom Buchanan, the oldest son of an extremely wealthy and successful "old money" East Egg family. If I tell Myrtle that she is not to mention Daisy's name in my presence, then she dare not disobey me. What a low life, scum of the earth woman she is. Often times I find myself wondering what it is exactly I am getting out of this affair with her. I have a woman at home that can tend to my needs perfectly. In the grand scheme of things, spending time with Myrtle will only drag down my social status. 
Oh how Myrtle makes my blood boil. Someone should knock some sense into that lowly woman. There is no woman on earth that has the right to treat a man this way. And a woman of Myrtle's wealth stature sure as hell has no place in disobeying me. I cannot stand to hear Daisy's name in these situations. I come out to parties like these to escape my life back in Long Island. The last thing I want to hear when I am intoxicated is my mistress taunting me with the name of my wife. 
I am in no way in the wrong here. I warned Myrtle not to say Daisy's name. I discussed with her why she had no right. Therefor, to blatantly disobey me like that is just a downright sin. And so, I hit her. I hit her so hard that I broke her nose right there on the spot And as a matter of fact, I don't regret doing it for a second. Any woman that has the nerve to think so highly of herself that she can blatantly ignore my demands deserves to be hit. Thinking back on it now, I spared her from a worse punishment. Any man with a sense of worth would have pushed her right out of the window to her death. I was being merciful to Myrtle but smacking her. That ignorant wench deserved far worse that a blow to the face and a broken nose. I could've shattered her legs with a bat and that would still be merciful after the way I was treated. 

What I was feeling...
If I'm being completely honest, I am not sure what I was feeling that night. It's the roaring 20s for crying out loud, the thrill of alcohol is what we live for. All I can notably say is that I was feeling good. That's the sole reason we drink: to feel good. No one drinks to feel anything else. My quick encounter with Myrtle and her ignorance towards me was a minor inconvenience of the night. I'm sure if I had to pinpoint an emotion to that event, it would be anger. I mean just review the facts: a low life impoverished woman to whom I graciously gave purpose in life to through my consistent love has the nerve to disobey me, taunt me and talk down to me. Sober or not, that will fill any man with any sense of worth with anger. 
But then really thinking back on the night, if I had to tell you what I was feeling in the moment where I struck Myrtles face with my fist, I would tell you I was feeling nothing at all. Alcohol does that to a man, you know. I was at that party to unwind. I wanted to introduce my friend Nick to the extravagant lifestyle I lead. As the night progressed I let go of all emotions as a whole. I just partied the way a man like myself deserves to party. So when Myrtle comes along to inconvenience me and interrupt my state of euphoria, I don't think I was acting on anger necessarily but acting on pure instinct as my mind had shut down and it was just my body making decisions for me. And looking back on that night, I don't regret what I did even for a second. 

Why I...
Why did I strike Myrtle you ask? Well, it was a combination of the way I was thinking and the way I was feeling given the circumstances of the night. I was experiencing a combination of disrespect, anger, confusion and a lack of control under the influence of the alcohol. I hit Myrtle because she deserved it. As I stated earlier, I should've done much worse to her. Women of her stature should know their place. She is so far beyond lucky that I am even seen with her in public. Her social and wealth stature is so far below me that a man like me should never even be seen associating with a woman like her. I hit Myrtle because she needed it. If I am going to continue pursuing this affair with her, she needs to know her place. If I tell you not to say my wife's name, you sure as hell better not say my wife's name. I am doing you a favor by coming into your life and giving you a taste of what your scummy husband could never even begin to provide for you. That being said, don't you dare treat me like anything less than what I am. 
I also hit Myrtle because I wasn't completely in control of all of my senses. That is not to say that I would not have hit Myrtle if I had been sober, as she completely deserved what came her way that night. I am simply stating that if the circumstances had been different, I might have been able to talk to her in a more calm manner to resolve the situation without physical contact. Keep in mind I said "might". I most likely would have done the same exact thing sober, if not worse. But there is a slim chance I could have spared her the agony of a broken nose had I been sober. Nevertheless, I will pay to have her nose fixed and dare she antagonize me in such a way again, I will do far worse to her than a broken nose.