Saturday night, I almost got in a dust up with a 911 Truther. I was having a great night, having played a gig with some friends, and then it went to hell because some loudmouth had too much to drink and thought way too much of himself. Now, truth is I’m a pretty calm guy. I don’t get worked up very often, and I similarly don’t fear drunken morons because I know that I can look after myself. That’s not to say I’d never possibly be on the losing end of a fight, but I don’t generally find myself in positions I can’t talk my way out of.
The guy was foaming at the mouth about how 911 was an inside job. Seriously, I re-read that sentence and just laugh; I almost got in a fight because a dick wanted to talk about an event that happened in another country over a decade ago. But that’s what it was. For my part, I can say I was probably out of line. I could have easily just let it slide when he came up and started spouting off, but I didn’t. The guy then started (almost immediately) to insult me and bump his girthy tummy into me to remind me that right there in front of me was the Single Most Awesome Ninja Truther In History. This is where I do badly.
I don’t like to be insulted at the best of times. Now, I don’t include razzing, but when someone is loudly telling me that I am a “fucking retard”, I gotta admit, the ole’ blood boils. I wasn’t about to start a fight over that, but I’m certainly not going to stand there and let some drunk call me names without reprisal. He bumped his vast gut into me again and said, “I ought to smash your face”, so I put my pint down (he was still holding his in that “I’m going to slam this into your head” kind of way) and said, “I’d fucking eat you”. At this point we were separated, which is good because I’m pretty sure he was trying to summon up the guts to glass me. I’m much quicker than I look, and I wasn’t worried about that. The minute his arm twitched, I’d have trapped it and slammed my forehead into his nose. But still, I was laughing on the inside. Over 911? Are you fucking serious?
He kept on mouthing off, and his buddy kept trying to justify that we were all just having a misunderstanding because we didn’t understand how vitally important 911 really is. Meanwhile, buddy is eyeing me the entire time with an “I could take that guy” sort of glint in his eye. Eventually, they left, but hung around the outside of the bar for a bit waiting for me to come out. I didn’t bother. I was too angry, and would far rather sit inside with my friends and blow off the steam. The last thing I need is to get jumped by two idiots. If I win, I get charged, and if I lose, I get stitches. Not exactly a win-win situation.
I get being passionate about things. I get being a drunk shit at the end of the night. I just don’t get the thinking that says, “You don’t believe what I believe, so I should probably beat the crap out of you”. That’s just beyond stupid. And in his arrogance, he assumed that I obviously hadn’t bothered to look into the subject. I wouldn’t say I’m an expert on 911, but I’ve formulated my opinion based on what I know and from a variety of sources. I’ve seen Truther videos. I’ve heard both Chomsky and Shermer’s arguments against. Like so many other areas of my life, when I don’t know, I look to people who do the research and whose opinions I value. Some creeped out Truther prick trying to sell his conspiracy book just doesn’t have the same merit as Noam Chomsky. Sorry about your luck.
I’ve had some strange reactions to this incident from friends. I can tell you honestly that I was not scared. I’m a big, tough, modestly trained son of a bitch, and I’m pretty sure I can hold my own in most scraps. I don’t like fighting and I try to avoid it, but had the guy attempted to hurt me, I’d have done all that I could to ensure that the stitches weren’t mine. As far as I’m concerned, though, I kept my temper in check (if only just) and nobody wound up hurt over it. The situation is over. No harm, no foul. If I were to run into him again, I wouldn’t bat an eye. It was a moment in time, hopefully one that they both regret deeply now that sober has set in, and if I ever saw them again, I doubt they’d want to start the conversation up again.
I’m still just disgusted by the way my night ended. Part of me feels like I should have took a swing, but the rest of me knows that, win or lose, that would have been a bad decision. I’m glad I handled myself. I’m glad I stood up for myself but knew how to keep my head. And I seriously hope the jackass woke up the next morning with a hangover and full memory of how he behaved. But I don’t imagine I’m quite that lucky.
Now, do yourself a favor, watch this SteveLikes2Curse video. When I got home, it was waiting in my YouTube subscriptions, and it made me giggle a bit.