So, it’s a rainy Sunday here in my home town. I’m stuck inside because, well, I’m too sweet to go out into the rain. I’ll melt. That is of course a smiley-faced lie.
At any rate, I was thumbing through earlier written works I’ve done and found one to share.
I like this very short story. It reminds me of what seems so far off now – my former life as an alcoholic/drug addict. I used to go to the bar every night and drink myself into a stupor that my ex-wife couldn’t shame me out of.
By the way, no, I’m not in a twelve-step program and I don’t plan to be. There’s nothing wrong with those programs if that’s what you need and it helps. I’m just not one to be helped by such a group effort. But, this story is somewhat auto-biographical in that, yes, I was in more than one physical altercation in my time. Some that didn’t turn out so well in my favor.
At any rate, here’s a little short story for you to brighten up what may be a dismal day. If yours is like mine – cheers! The story is titled Less Conversation. Hope you enjoy it!
Well, one thing was certain; Beau was drunk. He may have had no clue about anything else at that moment, but he was sure he was drunk. Everyone else at the bar was certain of this, too, because Beau always left drunk. Soused to the wind.
There was about to be a fight. And, of course, as usual, Beau was about to do the fighting. Despite the fact that he really couldn’t fight his way out of a field of over-sized sunflowers with a baseball bat and the help of a steroid shot in the rump, he was going to fight anyway. He was on that cusp. You know, the cusp that comes just after a cross word is said and that cross word pisses you off, and just before your eyes start crossing – that cusp.
The guy was being an asshole, Beau decided. This guy, Beau surmised by eavesdropping, had been saying cutting, derogatory remarks to this very docile, tender, diminutive lady. Beau had been talking to her before Asshole showed up to the bar. Kayla was a doll, no doubt. And in Beau’s state of mind, and the fact that white knights were in relatively short supply these days, Asshole deserved what he was about to get.
Kayla stood up to use the facilities and Beau struck, first with words. “Dude, you’re an asshole. That’s all there is to it. You have this fine little lady at your side and you’re treating her like trash.”
“Who the hell do you think you are?” Asshole spoke up, eyes on fire.
“I’m the guy that is going to humble you.” Beau jumped and tackled Asshole to the floor. There were no bouncers in this bar. Beau had no qualms about humbling Asshole, and, at the same time, very little resistance. The bartender and a couple of regulars who knew Beau, and knew his track record, were on them both.
Beau yelled, “Take this, Asshole!” Still, with little resistance, Beau wind-milled wild punches, none of which hit Asshole.
Asshole’s turn came. He kicked his knees up into Beau’s back, which sent Beau flying face-first into the jukebox. A CD playing an Elvis tune A Little Less Conversation began to skip, stuck on the lyric “a little more action”. Asshole wasn’t as drunk as Beau. He had the upper hand, and upper foot, which proceeded to pelt Beau in the belt area of his behind. Not once, but four times. The make-shift bouncers tried to separate the two. This was now not a task. Beau, having knocked himself in the head, passed out. Asshole was dragged off Beau and shown the door. He objected of course. Kayla followed, quite bewildered about what had taken place. She had missed most of the little less conversation.
Beau was left to the floor in a heap to snooze off his nine beers, and the action ceased. One patron spoke. “You know, Beau would be a nice guy, if he wasn’t such an asshole.” And, the entire bar said a “cheers” to that particular patron who spoke the words that everyone was already thinking.
A little lesson for us all in that story, possibly. Hope you liked it and until the next colorful post here, take care.