Last night I saw one of the top 10 bar fights I've seen in my life. And I've seen some good bar fights.

It really was a snowball situation. First, this filthy bohemeth of a man, nearly blind drunk, picked up his glass and threw it against the wall, which shattered just behind this group of girls.

No sooner was Goliath ushered out the door, than David totally lost his shit and created a 10 man brawl at the pool table.

I, meanwhile, lit up a cigarette and sat back to watch the circus unfold. At first, it was hard to tell who was fighting, even though they were rolling around like a pack of wild dogs 10 feet away from me. Then, I was able to distinguish a guy with another guy in a headlock, punching the other guy in the head, while a third guy who was the inital target was trapped betwixt the two using a pool cue to bust his way out of the clusterfuck.

Personally, I anticipated the cue stick to be broken in half over someone's head and for the record, if I had been in it - it would have been done.

It tough to watch a fight, it's like watching NFL football. From your seat you see the clearing and you yell at the player, who can't hear you, to break right. I was internally yelling, "Break the stick over his head!" and "grab the bottle on the table behind you and smash it on his back!"

But alas, it wasn't my fight.

One of the guy's girlfriend, all of 115 lbs soaking wet, got her way into the middle of the clusterfuck and busted some shit up. She threw them around like wet towels until she broke it up.

The bar went silent, and with the boys still huffing and puffing, she whipped the instigator's *ass* with some loud, deprecating words.

The jackass then glabbed a glass and threw it against the wall above a table of three grungy East Villagettes. One of the victims, without even turning around, snarled, "Yeah, why don't you break another fucking glass over my head, asshole."

Testoterone raged, I guess getting tossed around by your girl and then mouthed of at by some other little Village hipsters was too much.

"Shut the fuck up, I'll break whatever I want!" he yelled back.

The Villagette jumped up and turned around, "Why don't you get the fuck out of here!?"

"Shut up, bitch."

"What are you going to do - beat *me* up?? Get the fuck out asshole!!!!!!" she screamed in his face.

Then the girlfriend stepped in and grabbed the arm of his sweatshirt and she bounced his ass right out of the bar.

It was all so blue class. Reminded me of home.

All this, and I was drinking club soda all night. See! You don't need alcohol to have a good time kids!

Good times.

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