Everybody was kung-fu fightin’!

So last night went well enough, except for the ruckus that exploded from the back of the bar during one of Rudy’s sets. Finally, our first Tuesday night fight! It was only a matter of time since our highly combustible mixture of yuppies and rockers was due to go off eventually. Okay, I exaggerate and admit I was pretty surprised a fight actually broke out. What surprised me even more is that my friend Skid was one of the two people fighting!

Anyone that has met Skid knows he’s one of the nicest guys around and extremely well humored and mellow to boot. It was immediately obvious Skid wasn’t the instigator but it was also a bit shocking to see that at the end of it Skid was unmarked and his protagonist was obviously the loser of this particular fracas.

As is the rule, both parties had to leave the bar. I’ve noticed people don’t get this and often say things like, “But I didn’t start it!” and seem to miss the point that who started what doesn’t really matter. After a fight tensions are raised between not only the two pugilists but also amongst their two groups of friends. If one guy or another stayed there’s a pretty good chance anger would continue to boil and manifest itself in, say, a car driving through the front of a bar. (You think I’m kidding, but that was the after-effect of a guy getting tossed from Nick’s a few years ago.)

So Skid did the right thing and immediately headed outside…and was immediately trailed by a few of our friends – obviously in the mood to, um, let the other guy know what a mistake it was to tussle with one of our friends in the first place. (Okay, so it’s a dumb male response but it is inevitable and if I was called on to provide support in such a situation I’d be there in a second.) Skid of course took the high road, grabbed a cab to avoid any further fracas and took off.

Inside, the jerk that started the whole thing was hemming and hawing – not realizing Skid had already left – and was trying to stall his departure by asking for water, asking for ice, asking if it was cool now, asking if the management was pissed and – I shit you not – asking if he could leave through the back door! I mean this guy was with a bunch of his friends and he still wanted to sneak out the back! I can understand if you’re alone and realize that starting a fight wasn’t such a good idea and wanting to avoid getting your ass beat by a crowbar right outside the front door but c’mon!

As a side note, while this was going on, the door guy asked me to card a group of girls that came in. It’s been a while since I worked the door at a bar but it only took me about two seconds to remember how annoying it can be. A little piece of advice to the ladies: I do not care how hot you are or who you know, just pull out your fucking ID, show it to me and go about your business. Saying, “Who are you? You must be new here.” When I’ve been around for the last decade only makes you look even stupider. Just follow the fucking rules, okay?

Anyway, so the guy finally leaves, tempers cooled and the remainder of the evening went as well as can be expected. A little dancing here and there, a little flirting amongst the clientele and a whole bunch of vodka consumed by your truly.

That’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it.