Never in my life have I ever been privvy to so much drama over beer pong as I was tonight. First of all, beer pong is a 4 person game, period. If you don’t call winners (like any other bar game) you don’t get to play. So, a kid I know decided to start some drama against a guy I know because they wanted to play on a table that wasn’t theirs. No big deal, till it almost came to blows and I had to pull one of the guys out of the bar. No big shakes, I just wanted to play some pong. My partner managed to hook us up with some people that were previously deposed due to the drama aforementioned. This is where life gets fun; see Jason and I had won 3 games in a row (2 sans re-rack! Unheard of!) and were working on our 4th game (3rd without a re-rack) when some 40something year old came into our game and started talking all kinds of shit about the girl on the opposite team. He was saying her elbow was over the line… now, anyone who has ever left the town in which they live to go to college anytime between 1998-present knows that no such elbow rule exists. We didn’t care. The 4 of us were having a good time when grampa shit eater decided to try and piss on our parade. Most of what he said didn’t bother me till he tried to start a fight with the guy we were playing against. He has a wannabe cop buddy that likes to escalate situations (he was the keystone in drama part 1) that decided to try and weigh in on the situation. Fortunately for the bar, I don’t shit where I eat. We won the game, I got everyone out, and stuck around till everyone was out of the bar. I had to talk some sense into the manager who wanted to get rid of beer pong. I had to point out that thanks to pong Thursdays were bustling, however without it, the waitstaff hated Thursdays.
I hate people that want to shit on a good time. The people that started the drama were people who like to throw darts, and we are taking up the dart area. Yippee shit, get over it. I don’t know where I’m going with this, other than I enjoy a good walk home in the clean, brisk, autumn air to cleanse my thoughts and make me not want to knock some asshead’s teeth through his throat. The funniest thing is, the one guy I was most concerned about was the friend I pulled out of the bar earlier in the night. He’s only about 5’2” but trying to get that man out of the bar was a bigger chore than if he were twice the size. Fuckin wirey bastards.