I started the night like many others before it. Standing around our table at The Mushroom, having a few drinks with the boys. All was good and I was feeling fine. This was until my third glass of the damn “fire water”. It was like a blow on the head. I vaguely remember a few more glasses after that, but by then I wasn’t there anymore. At least, not entirely there.
After my sixth, or maybe it was the seventh glass of the burning stuff, that somehow seemed mild to me now, I got on my feet and took one of the serving girls dancing. Making sure to kiss her before letting her go do her job.
While we were spinning around, I stepped on someone’s foot. I didn’t pay any attention to that, but in the next moment, the fist I received on the side of my chin made me pay attention. Once I managed to regain my balance, in front of me was standing an ugly and big man. The kind that acts like they have sawdust between the ears. He was looking at me like a charging bull.
-Watch your step, pretty boy, or you might get more than that, he said grinning.
Out of pure cockiness and without any thinking I answered him.
-At least one of us is pretty, plus you hit like a girl, my good man, I said in a taunting tone, and I saw him turning red.
I could’ve easily taken him down if I were sober. As I was, it remained to be seen. But that wasn’t something of interest to me. Next, he came at me charging. I just had to get out of his way and live a leg behind. He went down with a loud thump. He was on his feet as quickly as he went down, and a lot angrier than before.
-You son of a whore, I’ll teach you manners, he yelled, charging again.
This time I stood my ground, and after avoiding his blow, my fist rearranged the lower part of his face. While he was still under the effect of my punch, I placed a few more blows to his body. Then I just watched him going down. I was bored. So, as nothing happened, I took my place back at our table, in the applause of my friends. The fight got me all fired up, so the best thing to do seemed to have another glass of “fire water”.
Thankfully, the rest of the night was without other incidents. Mostly drinking and talking. The guy I left on the floor got up after some time and it seemed he learned his lesson. Or so I thought at the time.
Our night ended towards the morning. By that time the only one still drinking was Michael. And it was Michael who took me home. I don’t know how the others managed. The last thought I had was “This will surely hurt tomorrow”.
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