Jimbo and Me

I was at this watering hole last night and right now I wish I wasn't. I should have just took on brother Aaron's invitation to that bible study group instead or something.

Right.

So I walked into this pub last night and sat at the bar. It was my first time. Ordered my Big Cat and tried to ignore everyone else including the scantily clad lady working behind the bar. The crowd was just starting to fill the place and it had become noisy I couldn't even make the words of "My Way" on the background. There was this bastard - lets call him Jimbo - sitting not far from me and judging from his composure which was brodering stupidity, I could tell that he had maliciously over indulged his daily quota. I swear I've seen Jimbo at some pub somewhere and recall that like last night, it wasn't a very pleasent encounter.

I was at my third Big Cat, when suddenly Jimbo stood up, gulped his beer and spat the whole fucking thing in this person’s face who was sitting next to him. Let me describe the person - thin, over 6 feet and skin so pale he looked like death and was as drunk as Jimbo. I could tell. He stared at Jimbo, mouth gapping.

I was like, What The Fuck, What The Fuck, What The Fuck!!!??? Isn't there any fucking pub in this city where one can have a decent beer anymore???!!!

There was an exchange of profanities as was expected between the two but unfortunately for Jimbo, while the stare-down had been going on, the rest of thin-over-6-feet-and-skin-so-pale-he-looked-like-death gang started making their way over to the bar, and these guys looked tough. One had a fucking stick sticking out of his back pocket, and another held an empty jug – they both looked like they meant business.

I was just about to make my exit when I was grabbed at the shoulder by this ugly reason for a human and asked me in Chinese if I was a friend of Jimbo - for the purpose of this post, I shall aptly refer to the guy who so indecently touched me as Ugly Bastard - I told him no, I didn't know Jimbo. Found out later Ugly Bastard was the good proprietor.

Jimbo, moving with a speed that belies his age and girth jumped over the bar like a fucking Olympic hurdler and grabbed what looked like a rod holding it clumsily but in a threatening manner. Or so he thought. Ugly Bastard then grabbed a fucking pool cue off the wall, snapped it in half over his knee, and started whipping the pieces around like he was Bruce fucking Lee. I mean, I've seen Jimbo in similar fracass before this and I know so much then that he was convinced he was a kung fu grandmaster, but that’s fucking nothing next to what Ugly Bastard can do with a couple of pieces of wood – he had Jimbo laid out cold in under ten seconds.

And that was it. The shit went down so fast, Jimbo was dragged out on his back to the rear of the pub and that was the end of it. Not a glass was broken. Ugly Bastard then reassured me Jimbo was fine and that he has got himself into this kind of shit many times. Told me a few hours before I entered, Jimbo and the thin 6 footer deathly looking person had a heated argument over whether it was more prestigious to lick ass or fondle balls. Or something to that effect.

Ugly Bastard apologised profusely and paid for my next two big cats.

Tells me that sometimes violence is the answer. BUT only in circumstances like this, he says. Especially when it’s directed towards raging douches who argue over shit like that and in the process, scares the shit out of good people like me. I agree with him. And to anyone who disagrees, I’ll give you my response in advance. Fuck you. No, seriously – fuck you.

That’s all.

Oh, for those who are celebrating this festivity - Have a good one.

By the way, I'll be watching Juno tonight.