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4:18 p.m. - 2002-10-19
Brain vs. Brawn (presumably followed by Brain's funeral): Part Two
(Continued from previous entry...so read that one before you read this one, otherwise you won't understand a thing in this entry, and nothing will make sense, and your life will be ruined forever)

Don't get me wrong...It wasn't THAT action-packed of a confrontation....

The issue wasn't resolved by me stabbing the muscle jock in the throat with a broken beer bottle.

The night didn't end with me spitting in the girl's face and saying something dramatic like, "You want 10 dollars, bitch?! Well, you can have my 10 dollars...IN HELL!"

The only reason I left the last entry as "To be continued" is because I was too tired last night to finish writing the shit.

I wanted to go nighty-night.

When the muscle jock told me to empty my pockets, I told him that I wasn't going to empty my pockets because I hadn't stolen anything.

"If you want to reach in my pockets, go ahead," I told him.

"I'm not fucking reaching into your pockets," he said.

"Well then," I said, "I guess nobody's going to see what's in my pockets."

I motioned towards the girl...."You can reach in my pockets if you want."

She did.

There was nothing there, of course, except my keys.

The muscle jock asked to see what was in my left hand, I opened it up expecting to show a 5-dollar bill.

Instead I flashed the 10-dollar bill to everybody...the 10-dollar bill which was rightfully mine.

They tried grabbing it from me, but I quickly clenched my iron fist shut.

"We're going to have to settle this outside," the steroid addict said.

I got the bartender's attention, seeking his help to resolve the situation, and asked the bartender if he remembered how much money I had just given him.

"I don't remember."

"What do you mean you don't remember? I just gave you a 20."

The bartender didn't remember.

Some help!

I showed the bartender the handful of money I had...."Assuming that I DID give you a 20 just now, would this be the correct amount of change after buying a Jack & Coke?"

The bartender agreed that it would be.

The girl was still gripping me by my shirt collar. The muscle jock was still towering over me.

I turned toward them, and put my arm around the girl.

"I just bought a Jack & Coke with a 20. This is my change. I want to drink my drink now, okay?"

They were delaying my quality time with Jack.

I looked at the muscle jock, still with my arm around the girl.

"If she wants me to buy her a drink, I'll buy her a drink because she's a cute girl. But I'm not giving her my 10 dollars. And I'm not going to fight you over 10 dollars either."

This is what the muscle jock said: "That's cool, man. I don't even know her." He looked at her, "He's going to buy you a drink, okay?"

"No, that's okay," she said.

"I really will buy you a drink," I said. "I feel bad that SOMEBODY stole your 10 dollars."

She refused to let me buy her a drink.

I shook the muscle jock's hand. "It's been fun."

I patted the girl on the back.

"Have a good night," she said.

I left them and went and drank my Jack & Coke alone.

Crazy drunks.

I would've bought the girl a drink too. I really would've.

So, I ended up not losing any money, not getting into a fight...and as a bonus, I forgot to tip the bartender during the chaos. So I actually ended up ahead.

Yeah, I haven't been in a real fistfight since 5th grade. I've never needed to. And, trust me, I've been in many a confrontation.

I've been surrounded by skinheads while wearing my ever-popular "White People Suck" shirt.

I've been confronted by gang-bangers who have told me they're going to kick my ass for fun.

People want to fight me a lot.

After reading my diary some, I'm sure you can imagine why.

So, how is it that I haven't been in a fistfight since 5th grade (a fight I won, by the way)?

I don't have a lot of brawn. I don't work out at Gold's Gym 7 days a week. I don't know a million ways to kill a man with my bare hands.

But what I have is charm.

What I have is brains.

What I have is a natural calmness.

I use my noggin.

And it works everytime.

Often, I leave my enemy standing there confused and stupefied....a victory in my book.

But, still.....If I needed to, I could've punched the girl square in the nose, and then fondled her tits as her body fell to the ground.

If I needed to, I could've shattered my glass of whiskey over the muscle jock's head, and then jabbed him in the trachea with the web of my thumb.

So, I wasn't real concerned. After all, I wasn't totally alone. I had Jack on my side.

And, afterwards I would've shoved the 10-dollar bill into the girl's vagina as she lay there unconscious, with a note scrawled on a napkin which reads: "Here's 10 bucks. Thanks for the memories."

That would be 5 bucks for each of them, if they split it 50/50.

A small price for me to pay to put a muscle jock into a coma, and shove money into a girl's vagina as blood flows from her unconscious face.

Hell, I'd pay 20 for that.

 

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