Cat Fight

"Nobody ever wins a fight." Patrick Swayze in
"Road House"

"I just wanted to help..." - me

Famous last words that express my good intentions
that wound up being misguided, misunderstood, and
will most certainly lead to painful orthodontia.
"What?"

Give me a second here.

I should preface this entire message with a
confession: I am NOT a good fighter. Really. I
have had the good fortune of being in very few
fights. The methodology for this fact is simple.
If NOBODY ever WINS a fight, then only I lose ALL
fights. ALL fights. Even ones I'm not IN.

So completely ignoring that logic path, on Friday
night when a grissly battle broke out, I stepped
in to break it up. I wouldn't normally suscept
myself to bodily harm to protect two drunk
testoSTERone-laden dorks from pummelling each
other at a bar. Besides, they are normally
fighting for a good reason, like, "Cuz he started
it..."

But this was WOMEN fighting. Not two, not three,
but FOUR women fighting. Mental note, women fight
differently than men. Men SUCK at fighting. Men
fighting is more posturing than actual violence.
Occasionally one of them will slip-up and land a
stray punch and the rest of us men jump in to make
sure that nobody ACTUALLY gets hurt. Just enough
pushing and shoving to assure that a victory can
be pronounced... by BOTH sides.

Women fight to kill.

So, when these four wildcats started going at it
on the bar floor, I had a brainfart. Unlike all
the OTHER men, who did the sensible thing and GOT
THE HELL AWAY from the mele... I stuck my
otherwise unscathed nose IN to help break it up.
I was just trying to help. It was an EPIC fight.
One gal had the other one pinned to the ground and
was clawing the living hell out the other while
the another was seriously POUNDING another's head
into the concrete. Violence in the movies have
NOTHING on a good chick fight. It looked like one
of those cartoons when they show the cloud of
smoke as the occasional head and/or foot pops out
of the frenzy just long enough for you to catch a
glimpse.

Then the bitch broke my tooth.

I don't even know HOW. All I know is that I'm
missing the bottom-half of one of my precious
canines. NOBODY came to MY rescue. As a matter
of fact, I think most of the dudes were pretty
pissed I was trying to break it up. Most dudes
would rather watch a good cat fight than the Super
Bowl. Throw in some bikinis and some baby oil and
you have a Pay-per-view blockbuster.

This was just a toothbuster. I hate fights. I
don't even know who won. I'm pretty sure that one
of the gals has her nose on-backwards and another
looks a lot more like Darth Maul. I wonder if
they were even friends? Me? I'm thinking about
getting one of those gangSter gold caps just to
keep it real.

I'd like to take a moment to thank Seattle for
showing the world that all it takes is a little
rain to end a riot. I'm surprised it took this
long to get those freaks in the street. 1000
Starbucks have been shoving double-tall
caffeine-achino's into that city for too long.
That's a lot of tension for those nutburgers to
handle.

*From now on, I'm carrying tear gas to the bars.

ster