I'm obnoxious!!! Kick my ass!!!
So I was over at Clark Hornbell's blog and he told a story about a loud mouthed SOB backing down when the guy he was mouthing off to got in his face. It reminded me of a similar experience I once had...
So I'm sitting in a local bar, sharing a pitcher (read 11 pitchers) of Killians with my friends and watching a game (read watching commercials in between boring sports stuff) when suddenly this tool walks up to my table and says, menacingly, "Hey."
Now, I know a lot of people in town, and I'm pretty bad with names and faces, so I say, politely, "What's up?" and go back to pouring my beer.
He says, even more menacingly, "I said, 'Hey.'"
I say, slightly irritated, "And I said, 'What's up,' so what's up?"
"You looking at my girl?"
Keep in mind, gentle reader, that I have singlehandedly drunk several (pitchers of) Killians at this point, and am scared that I didn't notice a good looking girl in the bar, so I respond with "I dunno, which one is she?" at which point I hear a sharp intake of breath from all three of my friends who suddenly realized that I'm in just crazy enough of a mood to egg on total strangers or even try to have my cake AND eat it, too. Meanwhile, this guy is standing there not being sure what to do next.
Finally, he finds his voice and says "She's the good looking blonde over there." and points to a girl sitting just beneath the television that I was watching.
"Oh," I say, "I'm watching T.V."
"What's that supposed to mean?" He asked.
"Dude," I say, "Your girlfriend is sitting underneath the television that I am watching. I am watching the game, not her."
"You just keep your fucking eyes up." he says.
"I will." I say.
"You hear me motherfucker, I said up" he says again, pissing me off to no end.
"I will," I say, "why would I want to look at an ugly bitch like that?" stupidstupidstupidstupid.
"You'll pay for that" he says as he walks away. That's right, away. While he was trying to gather up reinforcements to deal with my imposing 100 pound frame, I was alerting the bartender that there might be a little bloodshed, but that it was not my fault. The bartender responded by approaching my assailant and speaking hurriedly while he made ridiculous gestures obviously to indicate that the last guy I fought in his bar had been brutally stabbed to death with a particularly sharp piece of mango fruit. The bartender then walks back by my table, where I am peacefully watching the game again, and says "Have fun, dude." "Shit" I say.
The tool walks back over to me, and says, "Hey man, you know earlier, when I came over talkin' shit. Well, like, I didn't realize who you were and stuff, and, like, I was way out of line. Sorry man. We cool?"
"Yeah," I say, "We cool. And I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have said that about your girlfriend. She actually has really nice tits."
He paused a moment, then said "Thanks, man." before walking backwards all the way to the door of the bar.
I felt really tough until I was walking home and that gang of one-legged grandmothers with osteoporisis kicked my ass and took my wallet.
Thursday, May 01, 2003
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