Week 7 - Brouhaha
It was a mistake, just a mistake, you have to believe me.
It was nine o'clock and we had both had too much to drink, and we were starting to get on each others' nerves. Insulting, insulted, we couldn't tell who was the first to make a remark, who the first was that insulted the other man's wife, who the first to throw a punch.
All we could tell was that it was a fight, and it was getting more dangerous as it went on, as we had separated when the bartender told us he'd call the cops, but now, now well, we were under the streetlight and away from everyone else, and he just had to open his goddamn mouth.
"Your wife would do better with me any-"
I didn't even let him finish, I hit him so hard, and then we were on each other again, punching, missing, kicking, biting.
He threw me into the light, I shoved him into the ground, and then I wasn't going to take it anymore, just couldn't, I had enough of his bullshit, I wasn't his friend anymore, and I said so.
I think I said so. I said something, at least, you have to believe me, and then he came at me.
And I had the broken bottle in my hand, and I didn't mean to, but I had to, he was coming at me and there was nothing else I could do.
We were friends, you know, and he just, he just...
Why didn't he stop? Why didn't he stop until the bottle glittered with wetness? It was just an argument, your honor, just a mistake, just a...
It was nine o'clock and we had both had too much to drink, and we were starting to get on each others' nerves. Insulting, insulted, we couldn't tell who was the first to make a remark, who the first was that insulted the other man's wife, who the first to throw a punch.
All we could tell was that it was a fight, and it was getting more dangerous as it went on, as we had separated when the bartender told us he'd call the cops, but now, now well, we were under the streetlight and away from everyone else, and he just had to open his goddamn mouth.
"Your wife would do better with me any-"
I didn't even let him finish, I hit him so hard, and then we were on each other again, punching, missing, kicking, biting.
He threw me into the light, I shoved him into the ground, and then I wasn't going to take it anymore, just couldn't, I had enough of his bullshit, I wasn't his friend anymore, and I said so.
I think I said so. I said something, at least, you have to believe me, and then he came at me.
And I had the broken bottle in my hand, and I didn't mean to, but I had to, he was coming at me and there was nothing else I could do.
We were friends, you know, and he just, he just...
Why didn't he stop? Why didn't he stop until the bottle glittered with wetness? It was just an argument, your honor, just a mistake, just a...