"You wanna die tonight motherfucker?"
The younger guy has this old man by the throat against the wall, and the old fuck is still sitting on his barstool which is now on two legs, giving the young guy a decided advantage. This guy he's attacking looks like an AARP member, and I don't see what this guy is getting out of it. He's not that young, mind you- probably in his thirties...far too old to be going after retirees.
"You fuckin hear me? You wanna die?" AARP guy's face is starting to turn blue, and this is getting serious. I know that we have to step in, because Bill is far too little to take care of this and the place doesn't have bouncers. Half of me wants to let it keep going, though, because the older guy isn't even trying to fight back and that, to me, is the greatest of all sins.
The younger guy lets go of his throat because his buddy is pulling him off, but in a last ditch attempt to solidify is "jerkoff" status, grabs the old man by the hair and begins stop signing him right in the middle of the fucking place. For those of you who don't know what "stop signing" is, it's when you grab someone by the hair and knee them in the face- by the end of the bout, their face is as flat as a stop sign.
Now we step in, and a friend of mine is pulling the other guy off while I try to help this old fuck off the ground. Gray hair litters the carpet of the bar and blood is pouring from a gash in between his eyes.
Me and Parella are standing in the middle of these two, and the younger guy still wants to beat up on the AARP guy who is standing there dazed, calling over and over, "I want cops. I want cops." He says something about us being witnesses, and in my head I'm thinking, Sorry motherfucker, but I think I was sleeping. I don't get involved with cops.
The young guy's buddy gets him outside, but he's still howling about something. By now, I want to hit this cocksucker and I'm kind of hoping he takes a swing at one of us so I can whack him. He doesn't, though, and the bar is quiet again except for the old man saying over and over, "I don't know how that happened." I want to say, "Well asshole, you were drunk and loud in a public place. This is the shit that happens." He didn't deserve the beating he got, but when you're drunk you take that chance. I don't say anything.
I see the AARP guy starting to go outside to leave, and I follow him out under the guise of having a smoke. In reality, I know the other guy is so heated that he's probably waiting outside, and I don't want to see anyone get killed. I light my cigarette, start walking around the side of the bar, trailing the old guy. Sure enough, the younger guy is driving around the lot, and I see a car door open, followed by another one as his buddy gets out to try and stop him. I start to jog towards it, but his buddy has grabbed him and the old guy is running the fuck away right back to the bar saying, "He's gonna kill me." He dashes inside, and the young guy gets forced back into the car and they take off.
The older guy waits for ten minutes, still babbling with the, "I don't know how that happened" shit. Now I want to smack him too. When he's sure that the guys are gone, though, he gets up and walks out, off to wherever he came from.
There's a brown bag that was left at the end of the bar. Bill grabs it and walks over towards us.
"You want food? He left here."
He hands it over, and we start rifling through it. Teriyaki shrimp doused in garlic and white rice.
I look at my buddy.
"Isn't this kind of like blood money?"
"Fuck it," he says.