Shall I start from the beginning?
Let me give you a visual of this bar first. White trailer trash bar with a bunch of redneck men, most of whom are married. Most of these folks are tight-knit and have been coming here for years. This is a second home, and they are protective of their family. It's a Friday night, so that means the dart players are there, and they are in a category all to themselves. There is also karaoke -- drunk karaoke. It's a mess of things going on every Friday night. And occasionally, we get the young crowd that tries to run up in this hole in the wall dive and take things over. They are louder, more obnoxious and hormonal. The drinks are STRONG and CHEAP, so these morons are getting smashed without even knowing it and, 9 times out of 10, end up making complete asses of themselves.
Case in point: Lauper Hobbit vs. Spider Monkey
I'm teamed up with a dude named George. It's a blind draw tournament, so you never know who your partner is going to be, except if you are a female, you know you get a male partner. More men play than females, so there ends up being mostly male/female teams with a few male/male teams.
Anyway... George and I are playing on board 1. This is the dart board that is closest to the pool tables, and another section of the bar. These people, the new ones who don't know dart etiquette (there are rules people!), seem to want to walk up close and personal to those of us throwing for a $500 pot, instead of going around to the other side of the bar. I'm at the line, getting ready to throw and this Lauper Hobbit comes up close enough to stop me from throwing as she is trying to get around to the bar. I stop, take a step back and say, "Can't these people see we are THROWING!"
Lauper Hobbit's first mistake was the stop, look at me and say, "What did you just say?"
At 5'5" I'm no giant, but I had to look down at Lauper Hobbit and tell her politely (hahahaha) that she should go around to the other side to get to the bar because we are in a tournament and she was being rude.
She, obviously in a drunken state of mind, didn't know she was messing with Spider Monkey (a loving nickname given to me by my best guy friend Chris many moons ago when I jumped on the hood of a guys car, after whipping his ass, to again, politely, tell him he wasn't wanted at this bar).
Anyhoo - someone steps in the middle of us and then a friend of hers comes to her side and drags her off to the pool table area again, profusely apologizing drunk Lauper Hobbit's intrusion.
All is good. I'm throwing my darts, having a good time and didn't think twice about the little drunk person.
George is up at the line and I'm leaning on one of the pool tables waiting for my turn. Mind you, this is a double elimination tournament, and we've already lost one match. If we lose this match, we are out of the tournament. WAY too early in the night for me to be out!
Lauper Hobbit's second and final mistake: She comes right up to my face... ok, she's really eye level with my boobs... looks up to me and says "Excuse me" in a sassy tone. I wave for her to move to the side. There's plenty of room to my right for her to get her little body around me and scram. Apparently she didn't think that was a good enough idea. She stands there. Looking up at me. Blood red eyes, jet black dyed hair, a ton of makeup and some fancy getup that only Cyndi Lauper herself would actually look good wearing.
"Go around." I say, without giving her much satisfaction, and look over her head at the dart board.
"What if I don't want to?" she chimes in, like a smartass teenager. This biotch is obviously looking for a fight. Her fists are clenched, jaw is jutted out and she's ready for some action. Stupid girl.
"Well, then you can go that way, " I tell her as I push her backward and out of my face. Now, she's not much taller than my 10-year-old, so I know not to use full force or she'd end up clear across the bar.
This chick goes crazy. She gets knocked back a couple of feet from me pushing her and then she's like a midget-bull in a China shop. I think I could actually see smoke coming from her nostrils and digging her feet into the tile as she literally started charging for me. DONK! I punch her in the face (it was more like she ran into my fist though, after all, she was charging at me) one good time before Phillip (a 50-something previous owner of the bar, husband to the bartender that night and friend of mine), grabs a hold of the mighty midget and begins to wrestle her to the ground. Her arms are flying everywhere! She's desperately reaching for me! So I reach out to her, and tag her again in the head. I may have gotten one more punch in before Phillip flattens her little body on the ground.
Next thing I know, she's out the door. After all is said and done I see Andy wearing a shit-eatin grin when he tells me, "I knew she was fixing to get tagged when she stepped up to you like that. I just sat back and watched."
White Trailer Trash/Redneck Bar Fight Scoreboard for May 8, 2009
Spider Monkey: 1
Lauper Hobbit: 0
Ok ok, I know. Some may say I'm too old to be punching broads in the head. Other may say I'm too old for bar fights. Not to mention I'm a mommy. But yanno what, I'm also a person. A person that doesn't take shit. Real talk. And I'll be damned if I'm going to get hit first. It's just a rule I have. I especially don't like getting hit in the face. That broad was definitely going to pull something, I just beat her to the "punch".