The best way to start a fight

9 03 2008

You know, there’s something terribly satisfying about fighting. I don’t mean that in a Fight Club sort of way, especially since that movie wasn’t even really about fighting at all. I just mean that some things are just better after your face gets pounded nearly off of your head. I’ve had my ass thoroughly handed to me over the years, and while it’s not a religious experience, it can do wonders for the frustrated or woebegone soul.  

I used to be a fighter in my younger years. I boxed, and got myself into a fair amount of “street” fights. I also took a whopping month of kung-fu when I was nine, so I’m a pretty dangerous martial artist, too. You should see some of the shit I can pull off in Soul Calibur.

Anyway, last night I got ridiculously drunk at a local bar. I don’t mean that I had a few, or that I worked up a good buzz. I mean I got fucking drunk. Not only that, but I also tried my damnedest to get into a fight. I’ve had a pretty hard time lately, and things have ben more or less intensely frustrating. So, in true American Male fashion, I set about resolving my personal issues by beating the everloving Christ out of a total stranger, in public, in the presence of at least one cop and several large bouncers.

Believe it or not, but it’s incredibly difficult to start a fight. Even in Texas, and even when I’m being an immense asshole, people will try anything to avoid having to come to blows. I tried everything except full-on bodily attacking someone, and got absolutely nowhere. It’s not like I’m intimidating or anything. I’m six feet tall, and weigh only 180, most of which is not visibly muscle. So, it had nothing at all to do with me being “scary”.

One guy, God bless him, even went so far as to apologize to me for nearly knocking him over wit a hard shoulder to the chest, which was so obviously intentional that I couldn’t have made it clearer if I had worn a sign saying “Moustache Rides Free Punches for Everyone!” People these days just are not inclined to fight, I guess.

It’s pretty sad, too, that the last good one I got into was about five years ago. This asswipe was picking on a couple of my friends, one of whom actually owned the apartment we were partying at. He was offering shots to them, and slapping them when they refused. When he came around to me, I stood up and decked him without warning. I think he was even unconcious for a few minutes, but I don’t know, since his buddy actually tackled me to the floor to prevent me from really laying into him.

His big manly response? Oh, just to throw a whiskey bottle at my head and scream like a girl.

Anyway, fuck them. Sometimes I just want to fight, and there aren’t any babies or crippled women present.

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