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Why is it always the little ones? Why is it always the little ones that try to step up to the plate?
A little backstory ...
Two of the semi-regulars came in asking which taxi company to call because they took a girl under their protection and wanted to make sure she got to her mom's house because they saw her boyfriend dragging her down the block(1) while screaming at her. After sending them on their way with the number I didn't think anything more about it.
Fast forward about 15 minutes later when the guido in his "I have no penis" SUV was blocking traffic outside the club while demanding she get in the vehicle. He refused to move until one of the boys in blue flashed his lights and told him to move along. The girl took the opportunity to flee into the club. Mr. Macho leather sportscoat decided to pull his environment destroying gas-hog over and blocked our parking lot then hopped down out of the "I have more money than taste" penis replacement and fumed towards the door.
Even if I hadn't seen anything going on beforehand, the little fuck wouldn't have set foot in the club with the way he was oozing anger. Threw my arm out like a train crossing blockade and told him that his woman obviously didn't want to talk to him.
The fucktard was about NIPPLE HEIGHT! He had to crane his neck up to look me in the eye and said, "You need to go in and ask her if she really wants you and I to have a problem."
You know what the hardest part of the job is? It's not the occassional scuffle. It's not dealing with drunken roadies who have biceps bigger than my thighs. It's trying to keep a menacing face when some little twit has beer muscles and decides to step up.
Some of you have heard my sigh that sounds a bit like a growl. I think that noise made him sober up a bit because he then said, " I just want to take her home." I informed him that a taxi was on it's way to do that and that his best course of action was to clear out and stop blocking my parking lot. Jesse had stepped out to check the situation by then and our little no-cock-having preppie did as I told him.
Almost on cue, the taxi showed up and the two who had helped her earlier got her on her way. That's when I got a good look at her wrist.
The only thing that kept the little shit from a beat down after I saw her wrist is the fact that I know that this type of prick would just take it out on her when/if she decides to go back with him.
(1) He was pulling hard enough and gripping her tight enough that she had his handprint bruised into her wrist when I finally got a look at her.
A little backstory ...
Two of the semi-regulars came in asking which taxi company to call because they took a girl under their protection and wanted to make sure she got to her mom's house because they saw her boyfriend dragging her down the block(1) while screaming at her. After sending them on their way with the number I didn't think anything more about it.
Fast forward about 15 minutes later when the guido in his "I have no penis" SUV was blocking traffic outside the club while demanding she get in the vehicle. He refused to move until one of the boys in blue flashed his lights and told him to move along. The girl took the opportunity to flee into the club. Mr. Macho leather sportscoat decided to pull his environment destroying gas-hog over and blocked our parking lot then hopped down out of the "I have more money than taste" penis replacement and fumed towards the door.
Even if I hadn't seen anything going on beforehand, the little fuck wouldn't have set foot in the club with the way he was oozing anger. Threw my arm out like a train crossing blockade and told him that his woman obviously didn't want to talk to him.
The fucktard was about NIPPLE HEIGHT! He had to crane his neck up to look me in the eye and said, "You need to go in and ask her if she really wants you and I to have a problem."
You know what the hardest part of the job is? It's not the occassional scuffle. It's not dealing with drunken roadies who have biceps bigger than my thighs. It's trying to keep a menacing face when some little twit has beer muscles and decides to step up.
Some of you have heard my sigh that sounds a bit like a growl. I think that noise made him sober up a bit because he then said, " I just want to take her home." I informed him that a taxi was on it's way to do that and that his best course of action was to clear out and stop blocking my parking lot. Jesse had stepped out to check the situation by then and our little no-cock-having preppie did as I told him.
Almost on cue, the taxi showed up and the two who had helped her earlier got her on her way. That's when I got a good look at her wrist.
The only thing that kept the little shit from a beat down after I saw her wrist is the fact that I know that this type of prick would just take it out on her when/if she decides to go back with him.
(1) He was pulling hard enough and gripping her tight enough that she had his handprint bruised into her wrist when I finally got a look at her.
