Go where life pulls you.

Hi,

Bit of an old one really, not major in any way. Was just a fight that had amusing side lines really. Hope you find it as funny as I did (side note, this is the time when Bunny's List was invented, hope to post that soon). 

 Many moons ago I worked in Liverpool, it was an ok town to ply my trade, some ups and some downs. Met many brothers and sisters there, for the most good folk. Oh, and a hell of a lot laughs. Thing I found about being a wool in Liverpool is that you are quickly taken into the fold if you prove yourself. It was, for the most, a good time.

 I remember the lad coming in, he was about six four, stocky and off his chops on beak (slang for cocaine). If it was down to me I would have turned him away but the incompetent head doorman at the time was either intimidated by him or just didn't want the hassle. He saw me though. 

"Wha yoooou lookin at lah?"

"You mate" who else is there to look at you chong faced gurning gibbon?!

"An why's tha lid"

"What can I say, you stand out, big lad like you" for fucks sake, your'e so scarred it looks like Edward Scissor Hands fucked up whilst playing patty cake with you.

"You jus keep you'z eye'z to you'z self mate.."

I will bet my best pair of boxer shorts and a brew that I'll be seeing you real soon

And with that he swaggers inside. I shoot an accusatory glance at the head lad. Unsurprisingly he is chatting up a girl. Sigh. Now for the first time I introduce to you a very very good friend of mine, a true brother you could say, a man who has been back to back with me whilst fighting for our lives, someone who has spent hours in laughter at the silliest of things on wet cold nights and everything in between.

The Spartan.

Owain was right behind the banger (slang; street fighter) in question throughout the entire, well I would like to say conversation, but honestly it was more a guttural exchange with a no brained monkey who has mastered the ability to wipe his own bum. I hope. And was ready to act if things became silly.            He has a perception of situations like me, he thinks as fast as me and by the God's if there's anyone who I'd like to be next to at Ragnarok, he is definately part of my dream team (the others will be mentioned as I go through these weird and wonderful tales). 

 He looks at me and I look at him, we nod and go to each side of the door. About a minute later we look at each other and say "the nod was cool but what are we actually going to do about idiot boy?" After a brief discussion it's decided that we will see what happens and deal with it accordingly (bad idea boys, bad idea). Owain goes inside to get eyes on and we wait for the inevitable call inside.

Whilst we are dealing with the everyday workings of a nightclub, the que, ID's, separating the drunks from the soon to be drunks and generally taking abuse from people who have more self importance than an indignant smug git who is due a one pence refund on his gas bill. The normal things we do when people don't think we are doing very much, an ex-doorman aptly named 'Gay' Nathen slouches up to the door and after   hugs kisses and hello's we natter about what's happening in the world (bouncers are terrible gossips). 

The alarm goes off. Fight. 

As one body we pile into the club, no hesitation, no thoughts. Run! When you see a fight in the middle of a crowded club it's something to behold. It's like a whirlpool of people, literally going round and round. It's a marked contrast to it's static surroundings, people don't know what to do. It's a fight, flight or freeze. Most freeze. They just stare slack jawed and either mumble nonsense or scream. Never understood the screaming.

In the middle of the vortex are two people. Owain and our good friend franken-nuts, the scarred anti-thesaurus. Both are grappling, tearing at each other, blows bouncing off each others head again and again and again. Without thinking I'm through the crowd in a heart beat, grabbing and grappling. Arms entangle, joints are locked and suddenly the goon has all arms and legs grabbed and we are running towards the door, MOVE! MOVE! OUT OF THE FUCKING WAY!

 As a tangled mass of arms and legs we burst forth through the double doors into the eternal embrace of faux light, the neon night. A symphony of screams and shouts, exclamations of encouragement for and against ring across the allyway which is the stage of tonights drama.

 As one group we lurch to the opposite wall and slam to a stop against the shutters. This lad is strong. Strong, drunk, on the fighting powder and pissed off. No one likes to have their toys taken away and when Owain stopped him punching a guy at the bar he certainly saw his arse. Owain has one arm up his back, the head doorman has the other, I have his left leg up in the air and soon the floor shall be his cradle. 

Nope.

Try as we might we could not sweep that last leg away. kicked it, swept it, jiggled him till me made funny noises and still no cry of timberrrr could be heard. That's when Nathan sprints over, once a bouncer always a bouncer. As I see him I shout "get his leg mate, get his fucking leg..!"

Got you now you bastard! Give me the old big man speech will you? Er, someone has got my leg! Smack someone in my club will you? Um, why am I going backwards? It'll be the nick for you mate. Yep, wall's getting further away, definitely going backwards here!

Fighting against the kicks and struggling of a now enraged monster whilst having someone grab your leg and pull is interesting for sure, I look behind and Nathan has hold of the monsters leg and mine! STOP!STOP!STOP!NATHAN STOP! 

Nathan was gurning with the strain of pulling two legs in seperate directions! Purple in the face, snot bubble protruding and veins sticking out of his neck!

STOP PULLING MY FUCKING LEG YOU SPOON FED FUCK KNUCKLE SPUNK TRUMPET...!!

And with that I lurch forward and face plant right into the wall. Ow. Thanks Nathan. Prat.. 

 The cops arrive and do what they do best. The very angry man is led away chuckling at the famous flying bouncer with the flat face and I decide to have a word with Nathan. 

"What was that all about mate?"

"Um, yeah. Sorry about that"

"Seriously dude? Didn't you notice the difference between legs?.."

"To be honest I did wonder why he was wearing one white trainer and one doc martin boot..."  

Sigh.

Time for a brew.

Speak soon. Stay safe.