One would think, reasonably so, that a mature, successful, thirty-one-year-old mother would be beyond engaging in free-for-all catfights at the local watering hole. Fights that have to be broken up by several MEN, in which bras get ripped, hair gets pulled, and necks get scratched.
One would think so, anyway. Unless, of course, we’re talking about the Unsinkable-But-Highly-Scratchable 2N, of course.
Yes, it’s true. I got in a bar fight. Again. And I wasn’t even drunked!
This time, I swear, it was not my foul mouth that started it. In this case, these two women who together were probably two feet taller and outweighed me by at least two hundred pounds, were picking on my friend. It was, I think, when the bigger one reached over and grabbed a handful of my friend’s hair when I just couldn’t take it anymore. So I launched myself at her, which didn’t turn out so well for me when the second one pinned my arms and the big one locked her hands around my neck. Down goes 2N. Across a table, onto the floor, dragging various and sundry drinks, purses, and people onto the floor with me.
At that point is when my foul mouth came into play, because my friends said that even though they couldn’t SEE me through the two heifers holding me down, but they could hear me. I don’t remember much of that. All I know is that by the time it was broken up, I was finally back on my feet, the front of my shirt grasped in a bitch’s grubby hands, swearing at the top of my lungs when my bra broke and she went backwards over the nearest table. At which point there were so many other people around I threw my hands in the air to indicate surrender and shut my face.
It was when I went to the bathroom when I saw what the other girl did to my neck. I had to put Neosporin on it! Dirty bitch.
All in all not the best outcome, I think I might have come away with a handful of hair but that was about it. The good news is, that the two bitches got eighty-sixed for life, and I’m still happily getting drunked and silly there, but still. At least I can say I wasn’t ascurred of the big, bad, bitches.