I'm back in my home town last night. A close friend, her boyfriend, another friend and I all go out to a bar. (none of us are 21, so its actually the bar area of a restaurant which is notorious for serving underage)

So we get there, get drinks, get drinks etc etc. And at a table nearby are all those kids (not really kids anymore) who graduated high school years before me and my friends. One of them is even still wearing his varsity football jacket, and all of them are wearing some kind of apparrel from my high school. Dangling on their shoulders are these little teenie girls who can't be much older than 16-17 (certainly not the legal age of 18!) and they're drunk and throwing themselves at these guys.

At this point, I just snap. Maybe it was the Jose Cuervo, I dunno. I go over to them and say, rather loudly, "Oh! Shit look at this!" And I make a big gesture with my arms and say louder, "Bring out the drier! We've got some washed up old rags!" Now this might not sound like a horrible insult, but where i'm from, 'washed up' basically means kids who couldn't move on after high school and who still cling to their status as jock/Jewish American Princess/party crasher/drug dealer that they enjoyed at high school. These scum don't often have jobs and just mooch off their rich moms and dads. They either dropped out, didn't go to, or still have no skills despite going to college.

Half of these guys know me from the football team, the rest from one party I had several years ago that everyone and their mother (literally, this guy at the table starts laughing about how his mother showed up at my party to take him home) showed up to. Most of them laugh it off, not wanting to look stupid in front of their jailbait girls. But one kid, dumb ass punk motherfucker, who doesn't seem to be having any luck with the hapless highschoolers, looks at me and goes, "You calling me washed up?"

And I look right back at him and say, "that's exactly what I'm saying."

"Who the fuck are you?"

"Not just a dirty edgemont (town name) baseball cap clinging to the past."

"Are you looking to start?"

"I'm already halfway through college, thank you."

That last one went over his head. The other people at the table try to separate us. One guy offers to buy me a drink, on the condition I go back to my table. "We just wanna get some ass yadda yadda yadda" But he was one of the few guys who wasn't always a total asshole in school, so I go back to my corner.

An hour later I'm totally shitfaced. Those guys get up to leave, some of their teenie victims in tow. The fuckface, as he's walking buy, kicks my barstool right out from behind. I flap forward, beer flying, smack my face on the bar.

I see stars, blood, whatever. This kid is about to go down, right here in the restaurant. I jump up pretty quickly, he's facing me. Grinning like a fuckup he says:

"Damn that was a bad fall. You should wat-"
POW
Right in the kisser! He stumbles back, hands go up, he's ready to fight. People are yelling and all kinds of shit in the place.

Its a little hard to describe or remember the rest. I took one or two to the face, shots to the side of the head. He got one more in the face and I worked his ribs pretty good. Took about 30 seconds for a bartender to break us up, but that's a decently long time in a fight. The owner isn't there. One bartender wants to call the cops. The kid I fought with makes a break for it. My friends are trying to pull me out of there too.

I throw all the money I had in my wallet on the bar, about 45 more than the bill+tip, and walk out. I got 6 stitches right above my right eye this morning.

And tonight, I'm getting drunk again!