It was the night of Saturday the 14th. Yeah I know Friday the 13th is supposed to be the big deal and all, but I’m coming up with this new thing where Saturday the 14th will be the real thing.
So it was the 14th and not having any definite plans for the night, I called up my friend S. We used to be roomies once upon a time (read a little over 4 years ago). Then he had moved out, had lived abroad for a couple of years, had come back, got married. But somehow we had never met. We had planned to catch up on New Year’s Eve, but even that plan fell through.
I called him up and we decided to go to this upscale watering hole, but before that we planned to meet up at this low-scale place. Let me explain. Like every financially challenged Bangalorean who likes to go to swanky pubs, we too followed a plan whenever we wanted to get hammered. We would first go to a economically friendly place (read a cheap bar), down a few drinks, and then head off to the happening place, where we would be more than glad to settle with just a couple of drinks and a few eats.
We met around 8pm and after gulping 5 neat whiskeys, S said, “Let’s head to the other place. My wife will meet us there at 9.”
Me: “Errr...what?”
S: “At 9.”
Me: “You invited your wife?”
S: “Yes. Is it a problem?”
Me: “Of course it is! I’ve downed 3 drinks...”
S: “It’s 4 actually.”
Me: “Yeah exactly! I’ve downed 3 drinks and I can’t meet her now!”
S: “It’s ok buddy, she isn’t gonna judge you. I’ve myself had 4 drinks...”
Me: “It’s 5 actually.”
S: “Yeah exactly! I’ve had 4 drinks, and if I don’t have a problem meeting my wife after that, I don’t see any reason why you should.”
I grudgingly agreed. We reached there, and around 20 minutes later walked in Mrs.S. Now normally as a rule, I don’t letch at my friends’ girls. But this...I mean that...I mean she...was something different. It was very tough to not notice how ravishing she was. And then there was the added pressure of having a decent conversation with her, without being too apparent with the staring. But somehow I got through that (by focussing on the other pretty young things in the place of course).
As time passed, I realized she was not just about the looks, she was pretty cool too. She was getting my jokes and cracking up some good ones herself too. After a while, I excused myself and went to the loo, where I tried to convince myself that she was off limits by coming up with 10 reasons. I got only 5. They are:
1. S will kill me.
2. S will kill me.
3. S will kill me.
4. S will kill me.
5. S will kill me.
That not having helped much, I stepped out of the loo and headed back to our booth. When I got there, I saw Mrs.S sitting there with a confused and nervous look on her face and S was nowhere to be seen.
“What happened? Where’s S?” I asked, and turned around to see where she was staring. S was involved in a scuffle with two guys. I immediately rushed over, and pulled them apart, and got one blow on my shoulder as part of the deal. One of the two was wearing a tee that shouted “PERFECTIONIST”.
“Meet me outside if you have the balls!” yelled the Perfectionist as he headed out with his friend.
Not knowing what was happening, I turned and looked at S, and realized he was already on his way out. Drunken brawl Rule 1: “When your friend gets into a fight, you get into it too”.
So off I followed after S. The three had already started exchanging blows. I pulled away the Perfectionist and punched him across the face.
Drunken brawl Rule 2: “You never hit a guy in the nuts, not unless you are outnumbered.”
I was prepared for a right handed-punch, but unfortunately he was a left-hander and I got one on my right cheek. Before I could reel from the after-effect of the punch, I got a low-power kick on my right thigh. I was finding it funny that this guy who looked pretty huge and all couldn’t come up with a decent kick. Before I could chuckle at the thought, I got a pretty strong kick on the right side of my stomach. Trust me; a left-hander kinda upsets the rhythm of the fight.
Finally I managed to take a swing back. I aimed for his nose, and hit bullseye. He went off balance clutching his nose, and sat down on the sidewalk. With one of them out of the equation, I headed off to S’s aid and pushed the non-perfectionist away from S. He was stunned and turned to see that his ally was already down. Realizing he was out-numbered, he immediately put up his hands saying, “Ok ok I give up”.
I was confused. Do we continue fighting, or is it over? I looked at S, who was still spewing anger. I put my hand across his shoulders and guided him back into the pub.
Drunken brawl Rule 3: “The winners always go back into the bar, the losers to the hospital, or home, or to their Mommas”.
We went back in and Mrs.S was relieved to see us with minimal injury. S had a bleeding lip and I had no outward sign of having been in a fight. S told her what happened. She hugged him and my “And I get nothing?” was met with a customary chuckle by all.
S went off to the loo to wash up. I ordered a repeat of my drink, and that’s when Mrs.S said, “Thanks”.
I looked at her and smiled. She leaned over and hugged me, and the 5 reasons that I had listed earlier on why she’s off limits went off like a fire alarm in my head!
PS: Did anyone notice that I never mentioned the reason for the fight? ;)
.jpe)
