Castor Oil...sickeningly good

Friday, February 25, 2005

Stop spitting blood in my eyes - revised


Not to scale...so screw you. Posted by Hello

It was a redneck classic rock table smashing, tooth losing, blood spitting, cop car squealing good time last night at the old neighborhood bar. Oh yeah. Thankfully I was not there by myself so all of this can be corroborated by someone who can actually read and write (basic literacy usually being in pretty short supply amongst the patrons).

I went up to ye old watering hole as I have on so many journeys before to be joined by my jolly friend Marc. He was complaining of fatigue and general malaise but I guilt tripped him into going up for some drinks anyway. Y’see, I’m good like that as it’s all about me and my needs and I can employ nefarious methods to get what I want. Like many other times at the bar Marc and I were just chittering and chattering away while stuffing our faces with bad bar food and beer. After a bit we were totally riveted into silence by the FOX show about celebrities with no makeup. Honestly some of it was pretty frightening but mostly the “shocking photos”, just looked like bad pictures of good looking people. I can sympathize with the celebs because I myself am drop dead fucking gorgeous to a shocking degree and even I take a bad snapshot every now and again. But I digress….

During the commercial breaks we were talking about work while being glared at by two sloe-eyed mongoloid bikers who wanted to kill us. They were getting sorta kinda unnerving until the booze they were consuming intermingled with the gallons already in them and they pretty much forgot about us as they slipped into a semi-comatose state. With a huff and a cough and hack and a gag they wandered out to their piece of shit pick-up truck to try and drive home and most likely slaughter innocent families on the highway during the course of their travels.

After a bit Jamie arrived who I had also guilt tripped into joining me. He gave me some lame excuse about not wanting to come regarding the state of his liver and some severe misgivings about long-term alcohol induced dementia but that was all pish-posh and fiddle-faddle to me. He was no match for my powers of persuasion and promises of beer buying and soon he was there with Marc and I and the three of us watched the snow and the shows and had beers and it was all holly and jolly and well. Seeing that I was in good hands Marc bade farewell (that pussy) at just the wrong, or I guess right depending on how you look at it, time and dammit did he miss a show.

Shortly after Marc took his leave a gaggle of young, stupid, loud rednecks (GROUP A) that I had never seen before invaded the bar and took roost in a couple of booths against the wall. If you look at the map above you can see where we were sitting and where they were ensconced. One of their order who goes by the name of Jeff was getting his hackles up and feeling quite randy and lively. I know his name is Jeff by virtue of the bartender repeatedly yelling, “JEFF SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!!” across the gloom in the room. Young Jeff had decided that he had to start up some sort of a blood feud Hatfields and McCoys with another group of rednecks (GROUP B) further down the rail of lunacy and expressed his feelings on the matter with a well thought out and brazen war cry of “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU LOOKING AT???” Jeff filled the air quite frequently with his pithy missive but it garnered little to no reaction from Group B from what I could tell. With these kinds of folks some drunked up stranger yelling shit about kicking their asses over cocktails is about as surprising as cousin screwing or missing Xmas for a third DUI conviction…..it’s just the life that they live….bro.

It should be noted that Thursday is supposed to be Karaoke night for the dimwits but on this night Karaoke was cancelled along with school and general life due to the weather. That hole in the social calendar left a sizable number of drunks with nothing to do but get good and pissed off without the release of bellowing Toby Keith and Duran Duran songs. While Groups A and B nudged and glared at teach other another large murder of dopes (GROUP C) had taken roost in the tables near the door and were busy being dicks about not being able to sing Karaoke and everything else under the sun. They all had dinner and drinks and unfortunately none of them choked to death while they were cramming calories down their gaping toothless mastication factories.

So at critical mass you had Groups A,B, and C, random idiots, me and Jamie, the bartenders, the Karaoke guy who didn’t bring the Karaoke and tons of booze flowing. Things were pretty under control aside from Jeff and his non-stop call to arms and probably would have stayed under control until the spark that lit the powder keg showed up in the form of one of those annoying bastards that walks around bars selling roses. He was like the Archduke Ferdinand for the retards in the bar, not really a central player in the general conflict but history will reveal him to be the linchpin to the insane explosion of violence that was to come.

Jamie and I found out what happened to blow things up after the fact. It seems that one of Jeff’s crew from Group A bought a rose for the old lady of a hammerhead from Group B and as the bartender told us during the aftermath – “Dude, that shit just ain’t right buying flowers for another dude’s old lady!” Indeed not I say!!!! Well, dude from Group B got righteously pissed and raised his fists and went after dude from Group A with a banshee yell of, “FUCK YOU FUCKER” and the bar pretty much exploded. Jamie and I had the best seats in the house as the maelstrom of bodies flew right past us and landed where X marks the spot on the map. It was a moving mass of fat stupid gross bodies being led by the dunces doing the keep yer hands off my old-lady two-step from where Group B was positioned up the bar to our location.

They swarmed past us and the dude from group A that started all this shit somehow got on top of dude from group B. As they tumbled towards the ground succumbing to the laws of gravity and inertia the dude from group B hit his head on the wall and was instantly knocked unconscious. Being wholly unable to defend himself he was summarily fucking pummeled with shots to the face by the idiot from Group A who had caused all the trouble in the first place. Said pummeler was pulled off after a few rounds of unrestricted blows to the face of his enemy by members of groups B and C screaming “DUDE YOU GOT KNOCKED THE FUCK OUT!!!!!”, whilst thrashing about awash in the glories of his victory. That party was short-lived however as karmic justice prevailed and he was sucker punched in the face by a group B member effectively turning his nose into strawberries n’ cream oatmeal. One of the bartenders (female) threw her poor self gallantly on the ground during the melee and when she was pulled out of the fiasco started yelling hysterically, “I ALREADY CALLED THE AMBUALANCE”, when, in fact, she had not. She did call the local rescue squad shortly thereafter as well as the boys in dark navy blue from the Fairfax County Police Department who were soon to arrive with their whacking sticks and manacles at the ready.

Meanwhile back at the lunatic asylum the fellers and hags from Group B who were not willing to stand for this kind of behavior from their mentally challenged antagonists AT ALL NO WAY NO HOW basically started punching the shit out of anyone they didn’t know. The table behind me and Jamie was flattened to the floor by two greasy denim clad bodies crashing headlong into and on top of it. There was a solid dust-up directly to my left and another to Jamie’s right. Some stupid dope named Spanky got his misshapen bald head punched in while screaming “I DON’T HAVE TO PUT UP WITH THIS SHIT, MY SISTER IS AN ASSISTANT MANAGER HERE!!!!!!” Even with that kind of clout he still managed to get thrown out the door by his neck, (some people just have no respect for authority), and received further beatings out in the parking lot. The guy bartender big Alex, (who is big enough that his redneck nickname should be Tiny), started seriously clearing house and tossing lunkheads to and fro and we watched in delight as they crashed into each other in mid-air along with the furniture that was flying hither and yon through the smoky veil that hovers near the ceiling of the bar at all times. It was about at this point of the fracas that the old ladies got involved in the proceedings. Their strategy pretty much consisted of reaching in to slap the shit out of whoever was not in their group that was being held back by others, thus unable to defend themselves from the stinging retribution of bacon fat hands tipped with press on nails from the Dollar Store. I remember the look of total insanity on one of the harridan’s faces; a mixture of hatred, adrenaline, drunkenness and pure and total excitement that I will never forget. That damn goblin face has been burned into my brain forever.

You might be wondering what Jamie and I were doing during all of this and the answer is not much of anything. We were sitting right in the middle of the action and were never touched even by accident. We just spectated and laughed our asses off the whole time like the old dudes on the Muppet show, just being dicks for dicks sakes somehow never pulled into the fray. It was awesome.

Not long after the whole thing started a gang comprised of groups A,B and C ran out the door to beat each other up in the snow. As they were doing so the cops arrived and started clubbing them in their skulls and arresting their stupid asses. Between the cops rounding up the maniacs and the migration to brawl coolly in the great outdoors things had subsided inside the bar and the aftermath was coming into focus. The dude from group B that got knocked the fuck out was up and semi-alert talking to one of his bros about what happened and his bro kept telling him, “DUDE, I NEED YOU TO STOP SPITTING BLOOD INTO MY EYES.” His face was ripped open, his ear was bleeding, he was missing a tooth and after getting checked out by the paramedics and refusing transpo to the hospital he went back to the bar and ordered a cocktail. Oh like you wouldn’t!!!!

I figured the coast was clear to take a piss so I scooted back to the can and found a bloody wifebeater wadded up on the sink, (the sink-bowl was full of blood), along with a tooth. Really, a tooth…just sitting there….on the sink. It was very odd and I damn myself for not having a camera. Needless to say I ignored the sign imploring me to wash my hands. The cops were canvassing the bar after making several arrests and were taking statements (they didn’t take mine but I think I might send in this recap anyway). One weary officer just barked, “alright is anybody else in here hurt?” which struck me very funny. A couple of the combatants took up a perch next to me and Jamie and complained about the fact that, “thissssh isssh Amuricah and who are they to shell me I can’t whalhk home if I wanna….well thassssh FAIRFUX fhucking county for you…fucking bassshtards….take a cab….fushk yewwww piggy…..OINK OINK OINK!!” and shit like that. They started to stumble home anyway and I can only hope they either got arrested for dunk in public or run over by the mongoloid bikers.

As the cops were taking folks away to the hoosegow Group C cleared out to go do whatever atrocious things they do at their homes. One of the bar patrons was kind enough to chip in and clear the dishes seeing as how the bartenders had more pressing things like blood and body parts to sweep up. Later it became apparent that he had tipped himself for his labors to the tune of all the money left on the table to cover the bill but we can’t all be perfect at simple math now can we? At least he bothered to get involved! Somehow battle-cry Jeff managed to avoid getting arrested and came stalking back into the bar with one of his gang of fools. He sat down and yelled at Alex the bartender (who amazingly had not killed anyone throughout this whole ordeal)….I NEED LIGHTS!!!!! Alex says, “Marlboro Lights” and Jeff slurred back, “NO…MILLER LITES!!!!!”

He was, of course, served his beers post-haste and forthwith.

Jamie and I started talking to a guy who was a fringe combatant for a while. We’ll call him Mellow Tom. He wasn’t part of any of the groups but he was in there busting some asses around for fun. Tom was a pretty cool cat and he thought about not getting involved but as he thinks the bar is a nice place to hang out and there were no bouncers he figured it was the right thing to do to kick some heads in, you know, for the good of the community. Who says there are no role models for kids these days?!?!?!?! We talked to Tom and his buddy for a bit and waited for the cops and the firetrucks and ambulances to clear out before we called it a night. The bar was totally in shambles which is quite a statement as the place looks pretty much like shit all the time regardless. There was broken glass and broken furniture and broken rednecks strewn all over the place. The bartenders were pretty much over it and started telling people to get the fuck out, (not us, they like us. We didn’t try to kill anybody). As the night wound down and the Neanderthals went back to their hovels to lick their wounds and tell stories of their badassedness we paid up and tipped very well and went out laughing all the way to the door. On my way past the door I saw the female bartender standing out in the cold smoking a cigarette. I asked her if she was alright and she said, “Aw you know, shit happens when dudes start acting all stupid and shit. I just wish they wouldn’t have broken the furniture.”

And that pretty much sums it all up.

7 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home