I almost got my ass kicked over the weekend. Literally. And I have to say, as someone who has never actually been in a physical fight (verbal – oh hell yeah – but physical, not so much), it was a little…unnerving. Because I’m kind of a weakling. A super bitch to be sure, but physically – let me say this, I may be tall, but I’m pretty sure a 12-year-old boy could kick my ass. Or, let’s say, a REALLY pissed off 25-year-old girl.
The Story: So I went out on Saturday night (with Linda), and we went to a bar near my apartment after going to the movies – didn’t even try to get into Dark Knight, instead went to see Get Smart (mmmmm, Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson). And because it was hot as hell this weekend, and I needed to go somewhere air-conditioned before I melted, we hopped into a bar that I hadn’t been to in over 6 months. A) Because it was close by, and B) because it’s a cool fucking bar.
Now the reason I hadn’t been there in 6 months is because I had (briefly) dated one of the bartenders. And as with all my relationships, we’d broken up. Plus (as you all know) I have a bad track record with breakups – I tend to piss people off during the whole ‘ending the relationship’ thing, and they tend to take it out on me. So when I can, I avoid potentially awkward reunions.
Anyway, so we go into the place on Saturday, walk right up to the bar, and find seats (never happens!), and who should approach us? Why, The Bartender, of course. Only he was cool – he came over, reached across the bar, and gave me a huge hug. He even asked how I had been and didn’t seem to hate me at all. I was psyched. (Plus, in the interest of full disclosure, I should mention that The Bartender is hot as hell AND has the obligatory sexy Irish accent.)
Where was I? Oh yeah, the hug – so he lets go after the hug, asks us what we’re drinking (beer), and after getting us our beverages he wastes no time is turned to me and just blurting out, ‘So, are you single?’
Ummm, yes? Apparently that was the right answer, since he immediately informed us that our drinks were on him. Cool beans.
So I settled back with my beer after he left to, you know, work, and noticed this chick sitting a few seats away giving me the evil eye. At first I thought she might be a girlfriend or something, but I decided she couldn’t be because she looked too…desperate. Don’t get me wrong, she was cute (kind of Minka Kelly-ish), but she had a pathetic vibe to her. She just sat at the bar, doing nothing, and whenever The Bartender came by she immediately came to life. It was…weird. I kind of saw her as a groupie type.
I on the other hand couldn’t care less, and that (as we all know) is what truly draws men (at least in the beginning – don’t try too hard ladies). So around the 4th time The Bartender had come over to flirt – and actually ask me out, but shhhh, don’t tell anyone – I realized that Evil Eye had gone from being annoyed to looking like she was going to kill me.
I found her animosity made things awkward. For me, at least.
It should therefore come as no surprise that I was very relieved when she got up and went to the bathroom. Finally I was able to relax a little bit – in fact, I was so relaxed that I turned to the dude sitting next to me, nodded at Evil Eye’s empty seat, and asked ‘What is her problem?’
He didn’t even ask me what I was talking about; Evil Eye had been that obvious with her animosity. Chuckling a little, he said simply ‘Her boyfriend’s been hitting on you since you walked in. I'm pretty sure that’s her problem.’
‘What? Who? The Bartender?’
‘Yeah,’ he said, looking at me like I was a little slow (sometimes I really can be).
‘How do you know that?’ I asked.
‘I come here,’ he explained. ‘She’s always here – everyone knows.’
Ah shit. ‘But…’ I sputtered, kind of not wanting to believe that The Bartender would be so cruel as to hit on me right in front of his girlfriend. I mean, he would NEVER have pulled that shit on me when we were together. Of course, I never would have been so pathetic as to just hang out in the bar, alone, while he was WORKING. And speaking of pathetic, why was she blaming me? I clearly wasn’t the initiator here. And I wasn’t the one in a relationship! How was I supposed to know they were even together?! (I mean, before I asked that is.) But I digress.
Wait, I need to digress again – this is an important point to me – how could she LET him get away with this? Where’s the self-respect? People, if you show no respect for yourself, how can you expect others to treat you with respect? Think about it.
Now having said all that, it does appear (to give credit where credit is due) that Evil Eye’s wussiness only extended to her boyfriend. She wasn’t even a little bit scared of me. In fact, after about 45 minutes she finally just came up and said (I swear to God this is a direct quote) ‘I think you should leave now.’ She didn't say it in a nice way. And you know what? I left. Because she looked like she was ready to do me harm, and frankly I don’t want to get my ass kicked. For anyone, but especially NOT for a guy like The Bartender.
So quick wrap-up: Linda thought this whole thing was hysterical (she told everyone we know that I almost got beat up trying to steal some girl’s boyfriend – please keep in mind that I totally wasn’t trying to steal anything). I got home in one piece. I truly feel I shouldn’t have been the one in trouble there (hello, why wasn’t the misbehaving boyfriend getting threatened?). And I think I need to learn how to throw a punch – you know, just in case. So, um…does the thumb go on the inside or outside of the fist? Won’t it get hurt in either place?