Fight

A commotion from across the room awakened me from my musings. I glanced to the left to see a man and a woman locked together by force. The look on the woman’s face, as well as the man’s chilling sneer told me it was not by choice. Sheesh… didn’t that guy know that the way to a woman’s heart is quite a different path? Just no class… Almost lazily, but with purpose mind you, I stood from my chair, straightened my jacket, and began my approach. He didn’t notice me at first, being too preoccupied with holding onto the woman. Suddenly he looked up (up at quite the angle I am truthfully thrilled to say) and met my eyes. He smiled more. “Something I can help you with?” I sized him and his friends then looked at the girl and smirked. “I believe I will be the one helping tonight.” A rather cheesy line, but it had the effect I wanted. Instantly the man let go of the girl’s wrist and turned to face me. “You think your something special guy? You actually thinkin’ of being a hero to this girl? Look at her! She’s dressed for the part!” Little to my cause the young woman wasn’t dressed to the highest T. But that hardly is enough excuse. And like I was going to back down now. “Honestly,” I scoffed. “I’m just looking for a good fight. But by the looks of it I should keep searching.” And that was all it took. Amidst a flurry of fists and bottles I couldn’t have been happier. Truth be told I didn’t do it for the girl. Sure it was a nice thing to do, and I’m assuming at this moment she is not longer in the building. I’ll probably never see her again. But as I just said, I did it not for her. I did it for myself. And perhaps a bit for the punks. To teach them some hard earned manners. But you see, at the very core of the matter, I just love a good fight.        

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