small brush shouldn't fuck with big timber

Death's Door, the view from the Spanish announcers table: blast from the past……..protection from whom

Tuesday, June 14

blast from the past……..protection from whom


I must be worse then I thought. I’m sitting at the bar early Saturday evening having coffee and watching the crew bounce off each other as they’re prone to do. My gal pal Angela’s hanging out pushing drinks to the handful of customers there early. I’m on the couch having small talk with Hispanic Nate and he’s running down the same old story of going without sleep since last night due to the booty calls stacking up on his pager. Nate attracts the women like Frenchmen to moldy cheese, but he has this cool old school vibe that only a cat from the bad side of the hood gets.

We’re sittin there when the door bursts open and this huge crew of people crowds into the bar. They were noisy, rude and no doubt smelled bad. Nate looked at me and split, I couldn’t blame the brother, hell if it weren’t for the fact that I was already there I would have. Talk about killing a cat’s buzz, they were all screaming for shots at the top of their lungs and poor Angela just grinned and patiently served em. I just sat on the couch hoping that none of em would say a word to me. It’s not that I’m not a friendly cat, but loud drunks tend to say the wrong things to me and that’s when I act up.

After they all downed their shots they filed outside and got back on the short bus they rode in on. We all breathed a sigh of relief and went back to the serious business of doing nothing. About an hour later these three guy’s walked in and ordered beers and sat near me at the bar. After a half hour one of em broke off and came closer to me. He kept insisting that I was the biggest man he’d ever seen and he wanted to know if I played football or some such shit like that. At least that’s what I picked up from the mumbling mush mouthed muthafucker.

Why do all the drunks want to talk with the biggest guy in the bar I’ll never know. Other then being drunk he seemed pretty harmless but suddenly three of the doormen were standing behind us and they made the guy and his friends leave the bar. I said,
“what are you guy’s, my bodyguards”? “The guy wasn’t doing nothing”
One of the doormen looked at me in disbelief and said,
“hell, we didn’t do that to protect you. We threw em out to protect them. We’ve seen how you act when drunks bother you”
Sigh, I’m such a fuckin contradiction.

"and the monkey flipped the switch"

1 Comments:

Anonymous scorpy said...

From the outside, that is an awesome story. What I wouldn't do for a reputation something like that. I mean, seriously, your logo? "Don't fuck with me."

Admiration winging your direction from up yonder.

11:18 AM  

Post a Comment

<< Home