Karaoke night

I remember the bill of his hat digging into the side of my head. It was the last good joke I got out before he hit me with a left cross to my jaw. That was also the last solid memory I had, his stupid hat digging into my temple, and me trying a wry grin and saying, "You're going to bend the rim of your hat doing that, you don't want to hurt your hat."

Earlier in the night I had vowed to get drunk with Havilah, my ex-girlfriend who's birthday I was attending at a dive bar in Dallas. It was a matter of pride (and social graces). When partying with ex's, do it drunk. For storytelling purposes, let it be known that in the last four years I've gotten drunk as many times as most people do in a month.

I just now finished watching the video that my girlfriend Sheyanne took of me right before I went back into the bar to take a piss before we left. I was using a coffee top as a scooping device to eat my leftover Urban Taco dinner (it wasn't a taco), and cursing at her for mocking my utilitarian choice of a 16 oz plastic coffee top for a spoon. As all drunken conversations between lovers go, this one eventually became angry. I think our main fighting point was on who drives who around more. It was enough to make an angry drunk man misbehave.

And misbehave was apparently the thing I wanted to do right after I got done allowing Shey to record my being an argumentative drunkass. I went to the bathroom, the guy with the hat tried to walk past me in line, and I stuck my hand out and said, "I'm waiting in line." He pushed past me, and after two people came out, I went in. While waiting for the urinal, he proceeded to talk shit to me, asking me if I was trying to make a point.

"No point. You cut in line, I'm waiting to piss, point's made. It's done."

I remember saying that, thinking it was a good thing to say. Neutral, not alpha-male, simply stating the obvious and letting it go. Then I went to piss, and that's when he started challenging me, digging his hat into my head. Then I tried to be funny, and got what funny always used to get me on the school playground, a punch in the face.

I punched him back, from the small stance I had, and wrapped my left arm around his neck. It was when I got him into the choke that I noticed the other guy in the bathroom who had been watching all of this happen. It was then that I realized this guy was his friend. It was definitely then that I got punched in the nose, and blacked out.

When I came to, I had a few more head injuries, and someone was talking to me. I stood up immediately when I heard "...out the back" and started running. I went around the back patio and looked, but all I saw was a car hauling ass out of the parking lot.

I have no idea if anyone got their plates. I had to leave because I failed to pay a traffic ticket off last week, and probably have a warrant out now. What I'm left with is a puffy, bruised face, a hangover, and the strong desire to break things. I hate that desire, because it's born out of a feeling of helplessness. It comes from a desperate place, and I never know whether I want to indulge it or if I want to tame it, calm it.

I put the angry kernel of myself in a small place a long time ago, and every time it starts showing at the seams I get nervous. The temptation to simply let it all out on something inanimate or unimportant is so strong, but a part of me always worries that once that dam breaks, nothing will put it all back in.