It was hotter than hell today, so I generally moved very slowly at work. Paul and I were talking all day about old school drinking, about all the times when we all got so drunk that we'd go on destructive rampages at whatever house we were at, or the times we started a fight...just because. By the time I left work, I wanted to go out and get loaded in the old style.
We started drinking pretty early at my buddy Campbell's apartment, pregaming for the bar. We started at 7, and by 11, we were already seriously drunk. Anytime you've been drinking for four hours and it's still before midnight, you know the night is going to get out of hand.
I walked into the Grasshopper, and it was already crowded. I've described the place before- a typical Irish joint, with dark wood walls, dim lights, and a dart board in the corner. The place can get rowdy sometimes, which would make some uncomfortable, but makes me happy. Bars are the outlaw culture where violence is always a step away, and the air can seeth with tension over something trivial that no one else would bother with.
I was already drunk, so I kind of just did my thing. Find a spot at the bar, order some beers, gaze around for exceptionally good looking women (not that I'd do anything, of course). Some girl is trying to get through where me and Paul are standing, and she's being pretty nice about it. She's not bad looking either, and giving the common courtesy of "excuse me" while she's walking sideways through the place. Paul looks at her, and with a pretentious tone that he's mastered over the years, smiles, points at her, and goes, "Honey, there is no excuse for you". I couldn't tell if he was complimenting her or insulting her. Apparently he was insulting her, because she gave him an icy look and the evil eye. I laughed.
Without warning, a fight broke out at the bar. A guy I know from Fairfield had started mouthing off to a couple guys, and whacked one of them. Three guys took him down to the ground as the bouncers raced over to try and get them apart. The guy I know apparently got whacked a couple of times when he was down there; it's a good thing I didn't see this, because I liked the guy and probably would've started kicking the other guys (this is why I wear work boots to the bar, and never, ever where sandals. Ever).
I was loaded, of course, so I don't remember all that much. Hell, I didn't even realize that it was this aquantince of mine that had started the fight. I ambled over to the window to see what was going on, as these bouncers threw people outside left and right. My buddy was pushed outside, along with a couple others. The guys he fought with were coming out also. This wasn't done.
In a stroke of genius, this guy tells the bouncer that his hat is inside, and that he wants them to find it. The bouncer agrees, and walks back inside; as he is walking in, the guy that my Fairfield buddy fought with is walking out. This poor bastard is fucked, and I'm just watching it through the huge window in front.
As soon as he opens the door, Fairfield catches him with a right handed haymaker right in the eye- the kid falls back into the bushed, right on the other side of the glass pane I'm staring out of. I cheered, of course, because I love a good brawl. Fairfield took the fuck off after that, lighting out across the parking lot with a trail of very drunk, very pissed off guys after him. I walked outside also after this, because it was just too awesome to stay away from...plus there was potential for one of my buddies to get involved, so I wanted to be there just in case.
The kid who got laid out is on the ground, screaming about how he's going to kill somebody. He doesn't look very threatening though, being as he's got blood streaming out of his eye, and it's already starting the swell up. He looks like he might have caught a couple other shots besides the overhand right from the guy I know. After a while, he gets up and is stumbling around the parking lot with a dazes look in his eyes. He bumps into my girlfriend, and just as I start staring, she whacks me. She's right, I guess...this guy's had enough.
A couple of off duty cops tell me that I should hit the guy because he bumped into us, "That's simple assualt man". I don't trust them, because even though they seem like cool guys, they're still cops, so I just laugh it off.
The bouncers evidently got back at my Fairfield buddy by setting up his friend. They took him outside and told him to wait there (for what I don't know)...and the bouncer walked away. A group of shady looking fellas later approached, and robbed the guy for around $200 bucks. Makes me glad the bouncers like me.
I never got into any scraps, but I had a good enough time watching them. I was tanked near the end of course, so I probably wouldn't have been of much use anyway. Again...here's to drinking.