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I got thrown out of a bar in New York City. Now when I say I got thrown out of a bar, I don't mean someone asked me to leave, and we walked to the door together, and I said, "Bye, everybody, I gotta go." Six bouncers hurled my ass out of a nightclub like I was a Frisbee. Those big ol' New York bouncers who thinks bouncing's a cool job. They just talk about bouncing. They get together with other bouncers and talk about bouncing. They go home and watch Roadhouse and beat off. "Patrick Swayze's hittin' another guy! " for wearing a hat. I walk in a bar with a hat on; this guy, real pissy, goes "Take off the hat!" I'm like, "What's the deal?" "I'll tell you what the deal is- faggots in this area wear hats and we're trying to keep 'em out of our club." I was like, "Oh really? The only way we can tell down in Texas is if they have a haircut like...yours." And he got all pissed. Anyway, I took off the hat, and he walked away. About an hour later, I was drinking and I forgot. You ever forget? It happened to me. I put the hat back on, now, I'm between 6'1" and 6'6", depending on which convenience store I'm leaving, and I weigh about 235 lbs, and this guy is pokin' me on the shoulder with two fingers. He said, "That's it, you're outta here!" I said, "I don't think so, Scooter." And I was wrong. They hurled me out of that night club, and then they decided to square off with me in the parking lot. But I backed down 'cause I didn't know how many of them it was going to take to whip my ass, but I knew how many they were going to use. That's a handy piece of information to have, right there; overkill. (en) |
