Monday, December 7, 2009


This weekend was kind of uneventful, so I won't bore you too much here. Friday night we played pool at our local pool hall, The Pit. And yeah, that's pretty much what it is. Lots of different people come in. They go. Different people come in. They go too. They had a live band playing nothing other than country music.
I'm not really a fan of country music, but after a few beers I'll sing a couple lines.
So this guy comes in. He's about nine feet taller than everybody else. He decides that he's taking my girlfriend home with him. I mean if he really wanted to he could've just stomped on me and that would have been the end of it. Mary would no longer have a boyfriend. I would be murder food.
So I see this freak of nature over at the bar with his gigantic hands all over her. I usually don't get pissed off, but when she's pushing him off and he's grabbing harder, I felt inclined to say something. Guess what he said to me after I asked what's going on? Yeah it's really original. "I'll f%)$@ing kill you!"
That's when the owner of The Pit jumped in. This guy is about seventeen feet taller than the other guy. If douchebag-grabby-hands is Goliath, then owner guy is God. Plain and simple.
Well, turns out Mary gets bitched out for instigating. She cries, (because she really liked that place and we'll probably never go back) we leave.
Moral of the story....
I guess there isn't really a moral here.
Well I guess there is. Be 26 feet tall and nobody will mess with you. Ugh, I feel so insignificant.

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