Thursday, March 30, 2017

The St. Patrick's Day Rabble

This past March 17, Jay W. and I went out to celebrate with a few pints.  We did Pub Row in the Financial District on Stone street.  They had dozens of tents out in the street.  Each one was run by pubs along the street.  Guinness and Harp were being consumed by the gallons.  The street was rather crowded so we grabbed our inaugural pints and went to the end of the street to stand.

Then the fun began, two fellows in their mid to late twenties partook in some shenanigans.  There was an exchange between them and a fight broke out.  Luckily, some NYPD officers nearby took care of the situation, and the more belligerent gent was escorted from the street.

After a while Jay and I moved on from Stone street and went to a pub elsewhere.  Entering that pub, there was stationed a huge bouncer at the door to check IDs.  This was the sort of fellow who wore black leather and had a shaved head.  His shoulders and chest made him a brick wall, well suited for the gig.

We got another round of pints and ascended to the second floor bar area.  Once we were through there, we descended back to the entry ground level.  To our dismay the bouncer was nowhere to be seen.  "Was he even actually the bouncer?"

We exited the pub to the flashing lights of an ambulance and police cruisers.  There were about ten NYPD officers standing about outside.  Two stood talking to an unknown bystander.  Leaning against the wall and smoking a cigarette, was the bouncer.  He seemed a bit winded, not to mention the blood dripping down his forehead.

"What happened?"

Well, to draw a likely conclusion as to what transpired, I'll tell you what else we saw.  Being wheeled into the ambulance on a stretcher was the belligerent gent from Stone street, now unconscious.  My conclusion was that the bouncer wrecked him.

It's always a funny coincidence when one inadvertently follows along with a story arc in real life, especially in such a big city as NYC.

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