Avoiding Barroom Brawls Could Give You A Longer Life
"There Are No Winners In Bar Room Brawls," (author unknown, but a wise man nonetheless).
Fighting. Who needs it. I am not referring to the wars where our valiant Armed Forces fought in foreign lands to help keep our country free, I am talking about those unwanted, useless, barbaric, and primal bar room brawls that are happening somewhere. In some bar. Somewhere in our world even as I write this. What a shame to humanity. I despise bar room brawls, street fights, cock fights, any fights, anytime. Anywhere.
I am not going to waste your valuable time, for I know what it's like to be involved in a project and get distracted by something, like this story, and before you can take your first breath of relaxation, the night, or day, is gone and the project you started, remains unfinished. And guys, you all know what that spells: TROUBLE from the wife or girlfriend. Be smart. Do the project, and come back to this story. It will be here for a long time.
Before I give you reasons "Why You Need To Avoid Bar Room Brawls At All Costs," let me talk to you a few minutes, just a few minutes, I promise, on the subject of bar room brawls. First thing is there is a big difference in a bar room brawl and a bar room fight. A bar room fight may involve two angry, drunken guys; one sober and one drunk guy or two completely-sober guys who just love to fight. And the occasional "cat fight" (sorry, ladies) that occurs between girls who hate each other for reasons like taking one girl's guy when one girl had went to the ladies room. Or wearing the same skirt and blouse as the other. It really doesn't matter what the reasons are for bar room brawls and fights, they are not to be applauded, promoted, or stored by in our working memories for future conversations at family reunions.
WHY DO MOST BAR ROOM BRAWLS START?
- Too much beer, wine, bourbon mixed with hot wings and a bad temper. These ingredients only lead to bloodshed, smashed skulls, and scarred friendships. You know that I am right.
- Loudmouth's who run their tongues more than their brains--especially when they have had five-too-many drinks. And when the body builder-turned-bouncer approaches the intoxicated loudmouth to escort him outside, he hears the same, lame, overused excuse, "Awwww, man! I was just lettin' off some steam! Gimme a break!" Many bouncers who are just fed-up with this type of behavior, DO give loudmouths breaks..arms, necks and the occasional leg. See what booze can do to fuel a bar room brawl.
- Bar room Don Juan's also with too much booze in their bellies who think that every girl in the bar "wants him," and he parades himself up and down the bar in his skin-tight Wrangler jeans with his outdated vest and cowboy hat with matching hawk feathers, asking with a wink from a reddened eye, "Buy you a drink, sugar babe?" Only to get the response: "No," from the wise-thinking girls who have better ways to spend their time than keep 'grandpa cowboy of olden times, the 80's,' awake long enough to pay for their dinner. If that event should happen at all.
- And the same bar room Don Juan just invites his head to be bashed in by other guys who want some female company, by singing out loud, "Everybody Wants Me," by famous singer, Billy Squier. What a joke this guy is to those in the bar. The ensuing brawl starts when the Don Juan gets his feelings hurt and talks disrespectfully with one of the girls who turned his moves away from her. Then it's on. A husky male friend of hers, probably a college friend, steps in and (first) asks, "Hey, can't you just leave the lady alone?" Don Juan, insulted, swings at the husky college guy and it's 'light's out' for the Don Juan.
These are a few reasons, solid reasons, mind you, that most bar room brawls start. In some instances, a bar room brawl can start when a gang of men who work at a tough manual labor job such as working on an oil rig in the hot sun in Texas, or on a tub boat that carries barges up and down the Mississippi River, all get in the bar just to have a little fun, then the stage is clearly set for a bar room brawl that you can bet will happen before the bar closes for the night.
Let's take, for example, the oil rig gang of men, good men with good hearts and good work ethics, who just want to sit, relax with a few "brewski's" and listen to a good band, start their fun evening off by ordering a round of beer from "Misty," the pretty blond waitress who is really working at this bar to make money to put herself through law school. Nothing wrong yet. But you just wait. The "Bar Room Brawl Express" is just pulling out of the station. Be patient.
The band is good. The music great. The atmosphere in the bar (at this time) is relaxed, laid-back, fun, and there is no friction or sparks anywhere to speak of. "Yeah, it's going to be a great night, ladies," "Bub," the veteran bartender, who retired from 30 years of service in the Navy, says to his waitresses. But "Bub," can be easily-hoodwinked. He has lost the art of reading the deceiving atmosphere of this smoky, laugh-filled, booze-funneling, bar room. Poor "Bub." Used to be able to spot a brawl about to break out with the eyes of a mother eagle hunting prey for her young. Not anymore. Not since "Bub's" pretty wife, "Junie Belle," left him four years ago for their next door neighbor, "Larry," a single guy who was a disciple of body building. Enough of that story.
The First Rumble Of The Bar Room Brawl Is Felt . . .
One of the gang of oil rig workers, who meant no harm, said to "Misty," the pretty blond waitress, "Say, honey! Are there more at home like you?" A normal remark from a normal guy. You would think. But sitting way across the dim-lit, smoky bar is "Misty's" boyfriend, "Ashley," the captain (naturally), of the local high school football team, who is now "hot under his button-down collar" at how freely "Misty" accepted the oil rig employee's obvious flirting without as much as slapping him silly.
"Ashley," gets up slowly due to his inability to hold his seven drinks of Jack Daniels Black Label straight, no ice, and it is kicking his backside now. "Ashley," stumbles to the table where the manly oil rig employees are sitting, laughing, sipping Miller Lite, and having an honest-to-goodness, harmless good time.
"You think that was nice, buddy?" "Ashley" storms out at "Jack," the burly oil rig employee (who resembles film star, Sam Elliott), who simply thinks to himself, this kid can't hold his liquor.
"Me? You talking to me, kid?" "Jack" replies looking "Ashley" straight in the eye.
"Yeah, mister! I am talking to you! What to you mean talking to my girl that way?" "Ashley" barks out at "Jack" extra-loud to show his testosterone is active for the crowd to see.
"Kid, I was only kidding her. I meant no disrespect. I apologize," "Jack" says trying hard to defuse what might be a potential fisticuffs about to take place. Meanwhile, "Bub," poor gullible "Bub," is watching this scene go down--thinking that these two men are old buddies catching up on old times so he continues to kneel behind the bar and mourn over the picture he has of "Junie Belle," who is by now, far away, happy as a clam with her body-building junkie, "Larry."
"Misty," "Ashley's" girlfriend, (that sounds weird, even to me), senses that her boyfriend is about to be beaten within an inch of his high school life, walks up to the table with a round of free drinks that she has paid for out of her nightly tips to keep this from becoming an ugly brawl that might lead to someone or some people being sent to the emergency room. "Misty," was always like that. Caring. Tender-hearted. Even in grade school. She once gave a starving, stray cat, her olive loaf sandwich that her mom, "Margaret" made for her lunch. "Misty" named the cat, "Scabs.".
"Whattt's this? Drinks! We didn't order drinks, miss!" "Jim" the oil rig foreman says while reaching for his cold Budweiser instead of Miller Lite. I know. There's one in every bar.
"Yeah, 'Misty,' these guys didn't order no free drinks, so get back over there and say outta this," "Ashley" bellows to the amusement and amazement of "Jack" and "Jim," who are secretly-put off with his back-hand remark he made to "Misty." "Bub." Poor, gullible "Bub," is still on his aching, arthritic-knees clutching "Junie Belle's" faded photo--weeping like a whipped newlywed man and still doesn't sense that there is big trouble brewing in his bar.
"Now listen, kid, we are not here to get in trouble. We just want to finish our drinks and get back to the motel where we are staying. Is that cool with you?" "Jack" calmly says to "Ashley" whose eyes are now wide and filled with a jealous fire. A ticking beer bomb about to go off.
"You are finished!" "Ashley" yells as he swings at "Jack" hitting him squarely in the chin, but only makes "Jack," a seasoned-veteran of many bar room brawls, laugh at the punch making "Ashley" more violent and out-of-control. NOTE: "Jack," and most oil rig employees are tough as nails. They can face a full-blown hurricane and laugh as it blows by them.
"Misty" gasps in fear as she drops her tray in the floor to cover her screams. "Bub." Poor "Bub," is now fast-asleep behind the bar on the floor for crying himself to sleep--a trick he learned in his time in the Navy when his crew was facing dangerous combat missions.
"Jack," gently embraces "Ashley," to prevent this brawl from happening. Seemingly, "Ashley" is beginning to settle down. Then, without as much as a 'hello,' two of "Ashley's" football teammates, "Jed," and "Bruce," run from their tables and attack "Jack" with a blitzing tactic they learned from their successful coach, "Buzz" McClain.
You may be wondering why "Ashley," "Jed," and "Bruce," high school football players are in this bar in the first place. Well, that's simple enough. "Ashley's" dad is a wealthy financial investment banker in the town where this bar, "Bub's Boat," is located, so "Bub," and the employees of the bar know better than to offend "Ashley" or any of his friends for "Ashley's" dad, "J.L." could easily foreclose on the mortgage on the bar. Sad thing this. Being held at the mercy of a spoiled brat-of-privilege, "Ashley."
"Jim," the oil rig foreman, who has seen his share of punks in bars trying to be men before their time, simply picks "Jed" and "Bruce" up by the collar of their expensive shirts, sits them down in a couple of wooden chairs, and says to a grateful "Misty," "You can tell these boys, and your boyfriend for us, that we are leaving. And do not call the cops because they started this fight. They are only kids. We oil rig workers are not all the same. Yes, some 'riggers' love a good brawl, not us. Thank you, miss." And the oil rig employees pay their bills, leave "Misty"a huge tip and fade out the door into God only knows where.
"Misty" and "Ashley" look at each other and begin to laugh. They say no words for a while for "Ashley," "Jed," "Bruce" and yes, "Misty," have tasted the fruits of maturity and have grown a little because of the compassion of the oil rig employees.
This was just an example of how bar room brawls can start. And why. But we also need to, in closing, know "Why You Need To Avoid Bar Room Brawls At All Costs," and here are a few sensible tips on how you, if you are like me, and hate bloodshed, yours, can successfully (most of the time) stay clear of all potential bar room brawls.
- STAY OUT BARS may be the best tip of all. But if you find yourself in a bar, follow tips #2 through #10 and you will be okay.
- STAY QUIET AND INCONSPICIOUS most bar room bullies love to attack new people who frequent a bar. They can spot you like a hawk looking for a bunny on the run. So be extra-quiet when you talk to your girlfriend or wife, maybe a buddy or two. Stay in the dim-lit shadows near the back of the bar. This is preventative advice for you, the non-bar room brawler
- DO NOT MAKE EYE-CONTACT with would-be bar room brawlers if you are forced to walk to the bar to place your order. Be super-nice. Let the local's in head of you. This may show weakness to them, but it may keep your face from being hit by hard fists in a bar room brawl.
- WATCH YOUR ALCOHOL CONSUMPTION one thing you don't want is to be near a drunken stupor if you were to be 'called out' by a bar room brawler. A sharp mind is a thinking mind. A mind of clear thoughts. This can also save you some hide in a bar if someone challenges you to fight them to prove you are a man.
- CAREFUL WHEN YOU DANCE you think this is funny, but it's not. Most bar room brawls start when a couple who are enjoying a good, slow dance, accidentally bumps into a couple who's male part loves to brawl. Just watch where you are going. And if a bar room brawler asks if he can 'cut in' and dance with your pretty girlfriend, LET HIM! No use causing a brawl that you cannot, even with Superman's help, win.
- BE QUICK TO USE YOUR WORDS WISELY if a drunken bar room brawler approaches you at your table and says, "Did you call me a dog?" Gently reply, "Wy' no sir. That would be very foolish of me for you are a much-bigger gentleman than I, so no, you are a super-looking guy, not like a mangy hunting dog," this might get you out of trouble if the brawler has an ego, but make sure, if you can, that this brawler DOES NOT love to hunt using his favorite Beagles in the woods.
- STARE OFF INTO SPACE if you are challenged by a bar room brawler. Brawlers love to have someone to beat up, so you, do the opposite and just stare into space. Let your friends at the table know ahead of time what you are doing so they won't be alarmed. When the brawler calls you vulgar names, just stare into space. Even if the brawler calls his fifteen brawler friends to "look at the freak" keep on staring. The more you stare, the more-frustrated the brawler will become. And his loudmouth will attract the bouncers who will ask if there is a problem. You keep on staring as the troublemakers are escorted outside. Or, the bartender, if he's not gullible like poor "Bub," will call the police to be there in case trouble starts.
- BE GENEROUS instantly when a bar room brawler walks up to you and your friends. When he growls at you, you simply smile, call your waitress and buy this guy a nice drink. Maybe three drinks. Most bar room brawlers are violent in nature for not getting enough attention at home when they were a child. They take this gap in their life out on innocent people like YOU, the non-brawler. So just give in to the brawler. Be nice. But make sure you don't max-out your Visa card.
- FALL DOWN QUICKLY when the bar room brawler first speaks to you. I am serious. Falling down means that you are a weak man. A peaceful man who detests violence. You might get a few kicks in the side by his boots, and laughed at, but at least you won't be arrested for being in a bar room brawl. Face it, non-bar room brawlers, is it really worth all the trouble of letting your manly ego and pride cause you to try to prove your manhood to a gang of guys who cannot even spell 'manhood.' Is it?
- WALK AWAY don't be afraid to be called a coward. Hey, Kenny Rogers had a million-seller about a non-brawler named, "Tommy," who was nicknamed "The Coward Of The County," so being a coward is not that bad. And be real honest with yourself. The bar room brawler is much bigger, taller and in better shape than you. So being a wise coward and just walking away from this brawler is the wisest thing you can do. And too, your girl really doesn't want a burly manly-man for a boyfriend. She wants you, a sensitive, caring, man who loves to cross-stitch, do needlepoint with her and talk to her cats. Be wise. Realize. Be a live coward. Not a bloody hero.
Do you think that you non-bar room brawlers, now, if you are ever caught in a smoky, dim-lit bar room where bar room brawlers are lurking, can take care of yourself? I sure hope so. And I pray that my unselfish act of giving you, yes, giving you, these carefully-written tips and tediously-researched information, will help you to avoid any and all bar room brawls.
And live to read my stories on HubPages another day.