another first

Last night I did something I've never done before: I pounded a guy in a bar. He then ran out of the bar, saying that he was calling the cops. (Cue to exit, stage left!) The bartender told me to leave by the back door, but I chose to walk out the front door like a man.

Today my hand is a bit sore, but I'm otherwise none the worse for wear after he hit me back. I imagine he's not so fortunate, probably sporting a fine shiner and possibly short a tooth.

The guy was a real prick; verbally abusing a friend of mine, shouting that he was "unamerican" and "a faggot." My friend is neither of those things. I went over to try to defuse the situation. The idiot called me a faggot, too, so my fist was required to endure a high-speed collision with his cheekbone.

The funny thing is, this douchebag was probably 40 pounds heavier and 5 inches taller than I am. So, of course, he felt he had to run; apparently there's nothing scarier than a 145 pound, 5' 6" man, especially when you've just falsely accused him of being "an unamerican faggot," inspiring a classic fit of rage.

At this point I should mention that I have never been in a bar fight. For that matter, I haven't been in a fight at all since I was a teenager, over 20 years ago. Nevertheless I have no regrets.

One last thing: today is my 19th wedding anniversary. Two days ago was the 8th anniversary of my divorce. Somehow I doubt I'll be emailing the ex in celebration of the date.

Gotta go. It was a strenuous day at work and I need a shower badly.