So I have a lot of non-LDS friends and as part of the other 99.5% of the rest of the world, they drink.
I was at my buddy from work's place last night. His girlfriend (that is also a friend of mine) was throwing a party for her best friend's birthday. His roommate was there too and his roommate's on-again-off again-hang-around-like-a-disease-ex-boyfriend who he has never gotten along with and for good reason was also there. I don't really like him either. He's like the gay, petty version of the short, angry, mean chef from Ratatouille. They've been squaring off for a while and were getting ready to blow. I honestly was a bit worried about this party and what might happen when both of them got a little alcohol in them, and I was right to worry.
I was at Disneyland for the beginning of the night so everyone was like 4 rounds in by the time I got there. At my buddy's place there is this game room with a pool table and stuff upstairs but the rest of the party was downstairs. I was having a lovely chat in the kitchen with the dude with neck tattoos that was a very interesting and conversational guy. There's one of those at every party I've found. They weren't prison tattoos or anything crazy, they were Celtic stuff which was double impressive. We were talking about how much I wasn't drinking and he was like "you're the kind of person that keeps the world together..." etc.
So right then we both see a scuffle type thing going on upstairs and we look at each other like "Is that real or are they screwing around?" and then we say "Is that real or are they screwing around?" but then I hear the Douche Baggy Ex Boyfriend Man starting to yell so loud I can hear him above the music (which was considerably loud) and me and Nice Tattoo Guy look at each other like "damn" and without a word he puts his glass down and calmly goes upstairs like hes changing a light bulb or reaching the top shelf or something to 1) break it up or 2) throw the Ratty Boy out or both. It was pretty hot, I'm not going to lie. If he hadn't been there with a girl I would have given him my phone #.
Why are the only true specimens of non-related masculinity I've ever found very non-Mormon guys??!! It almost makes me cry but that's a whiny blog post for another day....
ANYWAY-
So there is still a bundle of scuffling feet on the landing up stairs that I can see from down stairs and the yelling died down so I started to go upstairs to see if they needed help and as I start going up Ratboy and his group come barreling down the stairs. I got out of the way just in time to see Roommate following them and yelling at him to get out so he left after a lot of screaming and arm flailing dramatic jacket grabbing and expletives.
I didn't know the fight was between my buddy and Ratboy at this point so I go upstairs to see if everything is OK because everyone has frozen into drink clutching pairs of big eyes downstairs.
It turns out Ratboy got buttered about something in the pool game, Roommate jumped in between him and my buddy and Ratboy sucker punched my buddy over Roommate's shoulder.
Now let me explain some things about my buddy; you don't punch him much less sucker punch him. The dude is an ice hockey player and a man's man type bada$$. He doesn't try to, he just is. He's a bundle of gentlemanly but unapologetic, barely mitigated testosterone. He's a softy but once he clicks over to his Hulk side its over. He would turn a guy into burger, dust off his shirt, pick up his pool cue and keep playing without turning the music down and ask you if you wanted another drink.
So I get upstairs and see my buddy pacing in the game room with a torn shirt and berserker eyes with a few people blocking the door so he couldn't get out.
Since Ratboy has "left" we let my buddy downstairs and hes still pacing around and screaming how "if he ever comes back here I'm going to kill him" and all that other chest slapping rhetoric boys do. I get him an ice pack for his eye but his adrenaline is pumping too fast.
A few ornaments got broken with Ratboys descent down the stairs and there was glass everywhere so I was sweeping things up and we heard something from outside and it turns out Ratboy left the house but he was still outside in the street with his peeps so my buddy, still pacing mad, just darts for the door faster than anyone can grab him.
Rule #1 with drunk fights is keep them as far appart as possible right? Well everyone failed. They hadn't morphed back from being giant pairs of frozen eyes. So I drop my broom and caught him in the drive way. Ratboy was still in the street. Some more yelling ensued and my buddy was flailing so bad I had to grab him around the waist to keep him from doing anything stupid. We were all about a minute away from the police station or the hospital or both. So I let him blow off as much steam as he could before I thought the neighbors might call the cops and then got him back in the house.
Ratboy left for real that time but came back about 20 min later with a knife and just walked in the house like an idiot. I was helping Roommate clean up spilled cranberry drink off of the beige velour carpet upstairs at the top of the landing and I saw him right when he walked in and Roommate was looking up the stairs at me and saw me see him and turn into a big pair of eyes looking down the stairs at Ratboy. Roommate turned around and started to chase Ratboy out again and Nice Tattoo Guy wasn't far behind. He held back during the first scuffle apparently but he charged out this time ready to regulate. Thank goodness. I stayed where I was because my buddy was in his room upstairs with his girlfriend still calming down so I look in the open door to his room at him to see if he realizes Ratboy is back. He does and starts the pacing mad let-me-at-him stuff again and his sweet bulldog Daisy is popping around and hes worried Ratboy would stab his dog so we get her back safely upstairs.
Ratboy finally takes off for real. We lock the door, debrief while we finish cleaning up more broken ornaments and spilled drinks and carpet, and once I'm satisfied everyone is sobering up and its over I say my goodbyes and head out, being grateful for The Gospel and that I could do some good. And that no one landed in the ICU (even though it might have taught Ratboy something and I wouldn't have been too sad). And that I didn't have to give a statement.
*hands in for no statements*
Saturday, December 20, 2008
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