Originally Posted by
Swinging Johnson
I'm a lover not a fighter. But the one occasion I had to go was at Play it Again Sam's on Commonwealth Avenue in Boston during my college years in the 80's. Was having a great time, Happy Hour was cookin', and the world was a beautiful place until one of the two guys I went with was accused of trying to smuggle a drink out of the bar. He wasn't, there was no place to go and I had the keys to the car that had driven him there. Of course, he decided to give the bouncer grief and being all of 5'5" was sure he was exempt from a beating.
I saw the ruckus, came over in a very congenial manner and tried to make peace. Unfortunately the one bouncer was joined by several and I was viewed as the tag partner to my diminutive friend. My brand new Guess jacket (leather on the shoulders and elbows - I was a bit of a fashion douche I will admit) was violently grabbed and I felt myself being "escorted" from the establishment. Now I'm joined by the third person in our convivial little triumvirate who was oblivious to the preceding scenario. He was also viewed by the bouncers as some sort of special forces threat (he was actually the captain of the Frisbee golf team so there's that) and was also tossed into the melee.
Long and short, the only one who didn't get punched was my mouthy little friend who tossed a few F-bombs when he was accused of smuggling the drink. After taking a few shots, none of which hit me directly in the face somehow, I threw a quick right that landed and then we all ran into my car. As we were driving away, one of the bouncers kicked my side window and the shattered glass landed directly in my wide eyes as if in slow motion.
I dropped the boys off, went to pick up my date to go to see Scarface, and unbeknownst to me greeted her with blood dripping from my eyes. After she apprised me of this fact I got a towel, wiped my face, went to the movie...watched about 2 hours and 30 minutes of a 2 hour and 50 minute movie and decided that sitting longer with glass wedged in my eyeballs was probably not the best move as I determined that the liquid beginning to stream down my cheeks was certainly not tears. She drove me to the hospital, had my eyes rotated in a machine to remove the glass and that as they say, was that. And no, I refused to allow her to defile me after leaving the hospital in my fragile state.