Sunday, May 08, 2005

We don't believe in Daylight Saving Time here, boy.

I've had a busy weekend of playing with friends, hanging out with Red and more general mayhem that is my daily routine.

Yesterday, however I did something special.

I, dear reader, hopped on my beautiful new bike, and with Jen and fellow mopundow rider T, we headed south. Way south. Then east. Way east. Next thing you know, I'm in Indiana. Indiana.

One of the more unfortunate things about Indiana, especially the Hammond/Gary area, is it has a rather distinctive smell- and not a pleasant one, at that(not to offend any readers I may have in that area, I am, as always, just expressing an opinion). Jen, who has the luxury of a rather dulled sense of smell missed out on it, but did ask the poignant question "why would anybody fish this lake, and why would they eat anything that they got out of this lake?" I had no answer, and I still don't. Not just because I don't particularly care for seafood, but I could smell the lake and was amazed that no only were people sitting next to it voluntarily, but they were fishing with the intent to consume things that lived in that lake.

But I digress.

Last night, a group of friends and I went to the Wolves game, where they won in a most exciting method- the short-handed goal. I don't think my retelling of the story would be nearly as good as this one, so here it is, straight from the article:
With just 43.3 seconds left in regulation, Stewart stole the puck in the neutral zone and pushed it into the Cincinnati zone before breaking to the net. Center Ben Simon beat a Mighty Ducks defenseman to the puck and dumped it to the front of the net. Stewart, from his knees, one-timed the feed past Mighty Ducks goaltender Ilya Bryzgalov at 19:44 of the final period. The Aurora, Ontario, native has registered three goals in the last two games.

Not bad. Not bad at all.

Afterwards, we headed back into the city so we could catch up with Red and do a little karaoke. Things were fine, they went well, until just before closing. Drunk guy #1, a regular, was at a wedding or something, and was fairly well lit up. He spent a few minutes getting on my nerves by hitting on my friend A, who really didn't want him around at all. I saw the "help me" face and decided to put an end to his ill-advised wooing. Drunk guy #2, another regular, was out drinking as well, and had exceeded the logical beverage limit for himself. I was happily chatting with Red and A when I heard loud voices from behind: "you wanna go?" "Let's take it outside, asshole!"

Then, kind of like in the Matrix, time seemed to slow down. I watched a couple punches, then a kick, then I realized that they were way to close to me, and more importantly, too close to Red and A, and oblivious to the fact that there were other people around. This makes for a dangerous environment. I also noticed that no one else in the bar seemed compelled to stop the fight, so I stepped in.

Admittedly, this was not the smartest thing I could have done. I could have simply said to Red and A that it was time we moved away from the fight. I could have. Sadly, still reeling from a hockey game and karaoke adrenaline, I did not. I forced my way in between the two pugilists and managed to tear one off the other within a few seconds, when finally someone else took an interest in stopping the fight. Unfortunately, in the middle of this melee, someone landed an elbow right on my award-winning schnoz.

Initially, I thought nothing was wrong. 10 minutes later, I started to get a bad feeling about it. Now, I'm just in pain. There wasn't much swelling, so I don't think I broke it(I have before, and it's no picnic), but at the same time, I can't look down comfortably, not to mention blow my nose, sneeze, or shake my head much without a fair amount of pain. Red insisted that I ice it when we got home, and I did, but I'm sure not happy about this.

Red also pointed out that I should have expected something like this if I were going to jump into a fight between Drunk guy #1 and Drunk guy #2. She is, of course, completely correct. Although, I still think I did the right thing, from a certain standpoint.

At least no one else got hurt, right?


Blogger Henry said...

Wow, you separated a fight. I would suggest a career as a hockey referee, but I know that would get me pummled, so I won't.

1:58 PM  
Blogger jen said...

Dave, Dave, Dave.
That recessive RA gene raises it's head again ;)

(I agree with Henry on the possible career choice as a Hockey Zebra...although you would probably be the first ref to get penalty minutes for taunting the goalie!)

8:04 AM  

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