Day 17 Idiots

Idiots. I hate idiots. With that being said, I understand that I often look like an idiot in the eyes of other people. Hell, I think I am trying to make a living at it. But the fact of the matter is, we all say things like "look at that idiot not using his turn signal" or "this idiot thinks...." or "that idiot does". We all do it. How the hell are some of us so smart and can deem others the idiots? I got news for you folks. We are the idiots! We all have the capability of being an idiot at any time.

Years ago while I was in the bar business, I ran into a lot of idiots. I even hired some idiots. I guess it helped take some of the pressure off of me. Anyhow, this one particular busy night we had an "idiot" who was bothering a group of women. Two different doormen politely asked this idiot to leave these girls alone and to mind his own business. This guy went on to profess how these women were indeed his business and it became apparent at this point that we or I was going to be responsible for proving otherwise.

So, I am over at the safe straightening out some money and making a plan of action to get this idiot out of the bar with the least amount effort and then I hear a loud thud and someone screaming "Get him off of me!" I scan the area and wouldn't you know it.... there was a problem in the area near where these women had been sitting and I could not see my new friend. Imagine that. As I approach what looks to be a considerable pile up just past the pool tables, one of the women tells me, "don't let your door man kill him!"  

"My door man is a highly trained individual and I guarantee he will not kill this idiot." I said. I get there and by no surprise here is the idiot who had been bothering these women, all tied up in a knot screaming "Get him off of me! Get him off of me!" I look and laugh because its always funny when some idiot thinks he is going to whip a door mans ass. (Not saying it can't happen but door men are like yellow jackets! Where there's one, there's many and all of them sting.

My door man Neil is putting the squeeze on this guy pretty good. The idiot is still squealing. Neil says, "what do you think boss" to which I reply.... "Well, get off him I guess." Neil lets go of the idiot and the idiot makes it to his feet. His hair is all mussed up. He has a knot the size of a half golf ball on his forehead and a bit of a rug burn on his cheek. Now he even looks like an idiot. I ask this guy, "what is your deal, dude?" to which he replied "I hate you" as he pointed at Neil, "I hate you" as he pointed to another door man, "I hate you" as he pointed to a woman who had nothing to do with the entire situation and "I really really hate you" as he pointed at me. 

Here's where the story takes an even more unfortunate turn for our new friend. I knew he was going to try to hit me before he knew he was going to try to hit me. You work in bars long enough breaking up fights, you gain this special "idiot detector intuition" that is seldom off the mark. So here's the thing.... there are 2 doormen present and either of them could whip this guy's ass. Me, the true diplomat of the whole outfit is standing there and I could whip this guys ass all day and even with that, good old numb nuts decides to throw a punch. 

Like I said, I knew it was coming before the guy throwing it made his offering. I ducked the punch in such a fashion that allowed our new friend to be in the most precarious position of being in a rear naked choke. Before I started to drag this guy to the front door, I whispered in his ear ever so softly, "Night Night, Numb Nuts. You next breath will be outside.' At that point, my new friend fell asleep. Apparently my presence had a calming lullaby effect (or the choke hold was administered properly) and now my friend and I were making our way without any commotion, outside. 

I knew the police department had been called because that was protocol so when I got outside, the men in blue were anxiously anticipating a "fight in progress" but out comes "Bricey the Teddy Bear" and his incapacitated friend. I sat my friend against the wall and made sure he was breathing. You never want to hand cops a dead guy that they saw you choking. (That is rule number 21 in the Brice Dudley Doorman Bible.) 

He was alive and it appeared that he was making a miraculous recovery, much to the joy of... nobody really. Still a little groggy, he stood up and yelled some unintelligible shit and promptly took another nose dive on the wooden boardwalk. The group gathered found this a bit amusing and even more so when the police tried to help this guy up, he decided to fight the police. (Let me offer you this... don't try to fight cops. They have all kinds of shit they can bust out on your ass and the outcome is not anything like you think it will be.... cops always win.) 

A minute or two of scuffling with the police found our friend in the back of a squad car headed for a night in the Iron Bar Motel, compliments of the Town of Jackson. So, there are a lot of "morals to the story" here and you get to filter them out. This one idiot got beat up 3 times in less than 5 minutes, then got to sit in the drunk tank all night, beat up. That is an idiot, people. Don't be an idiot. Straighten up and fly right.

"Dick" the JPD Drone