She's As Fragile As a Coal Truck...

Those that know me well know that I was raised with some southern charm in my upbringing. Sweet tea and cornbread was always on the table during family get-togethers. "Yes, Ma'am" and "No, Sir" was always expected out of my mouth, Sunday church service was a requirement when I was younger, we had important talks on the front porch swing, and an Old Miss basketball game was always on the TV during the season. Growing up with a southern family I always thought big hair was better and a girl should have more dresses than pants. (To a certain extent I still believe this.)


I'm sure it's a no brainer that I got my sassiness and my quick tongue from the Mississippi ladies. As one of my grandmothers said when I was younger "That girl is about as fragile as a coal truck. She can fight with the heart of a pit bull while still maintaining her grace and curls in her hair. Bless the heart of whoever makes her mad."


After having all of that out there, before this year, I was never in a physical fight. I always chose the route of walking away or killing the enemy with kindness. My dad and papa always told me "Rule number one: You better never hit someone first. It's not nice and it's not lady like. But, if they do something to you first, then forget rule number one."


Here's my story:


In January of this year, I had went out for drinks with one of my former bosses, Blake. I had always been attracted to him, but knew what kind of Casanova he was from observing him at work. But, that didn't stop me from spending time with him every now and then after I left my position. Blake is what you would call the modern day James Dean. He's the bad boy with good intentions in this bigger city he resides in. Every woman knows who he is who lives in the city. A magazine even named him one of the most eligible bachelors in his area. He had VIP access to every club and bar, high fives and handshakes were given in every direction when he walked in a room, he was either liked by people who were equal to his status or was hated by people that envied his life. There was no in between when it came to him.


After I had left that job, he looked at me as an opportunity to achieve. He knew I was a challenge who didn't get on my knees and worship the ground he walked on like every woman in town. That intrigued him. I know it did.


Even though he was a cocky, arrogant SOB, I enjoyed talking to him about various things in the world, he knew how to push my buttons and I sure as hell knew how to push his back.


Blake and I had met up at a bigger bar in the city. Two of his friends, Chris and Mark, had accompanied him. If you knew Blake you knew he had an entourage that followed. Always.  


I didn't mind though, I may wear a dress to most events in life but I can keep up with the boys.


After a few free rounds from the owner of the bar, we made our way to another bar in the next town. I was feeling a little tipsy, but I wasn't ready to drunk text my old high school teacher. (That's another story.) 


Once we arrived at the new bar, I could instantly tell that our visit there wasn't going to end well. It was a different crowd than we were used to being around and the bouncer checked my purse at the door for a weapon. Men with ZZ Top sunglasses on, tattoos on men and women that looked like they were done in someone's dirty basement, someone even had a monkey on their shoulder...and it looked like a mean monkey. "So, they check my bag but they let a mean monkey into this bar...I think we should leave." I told Blake. He assured me that we would be fine and he knew the owner. For once I said nothing, hoping and praying he was right.


We went directly to the pool table and set up a game. I could feel every one's eyes on us as we started to play. I noticed that there were only about 3 other women in this decently full bar besides myself and they weren't any delicate flowers. And then the excitement began...


I was drinking my blue moon, wondering to myself if the jukebox played anything else other than Iron Maiden, and noticed a severely gruff looking guy and his biker babe coming towards our group. Chris and Mark told Blake they had to bail due to there being some "guarantees at the bar down the road." I instantly felt my heart drop to my tummy. Great, I thought to myself, now the strong disciples were leaving us. Where's a trap door when you need one?


Blake continued on sitting on the bar stool, sly half smile on his face, watching the couple walk over to us, and he moved his hand to my waist, looking like nothing in the world was phasing him. He obviously hadn't watched all the movies I had seen that started like this.


I looked down at my heels, hoping they were wanting to welcome us to the area and give us a complimentary bag of shelled peanuts. They got closer and I all of sudden wondered if they were taught the rules of personal space in elementary school.


Captain Gruff stared at us intensely while Miss "I look like I came from hell and back" chewed her gum in an annoying matter.


"Are you that mister big shot I hear everyone talk about?" He asked, while chew was stuffed in his bottom lip.


I looked over at Blake and he continued on smiling. "Depends what you've heard." Blake says as he looked over at me and patted me on my ass.


"I heard that you think you're the shit everywhere you go, we don't want you here at this here bar."


"Well, that's funny, Earl. Can I call you Earl? Because I'm pretty sure, Earl, that we're not worried about whether you want us here or not. We're enjoying conversation and some beers, so how about you play another Iron Maiden song on the jukebox and scratch your armpit."


I instantly closed my eyes. Why? I'm not sure. I pretty much knew that I was going to have someone else's blood on my new heels I had bought earlier that day.


I opened my eyes, not even looking at "Earl's" reaction and whispered to Blake "Come on, lets just go and drink somewhere else."


"I don't think you heard me, son." Captain Gruff said "We don't want you here."


"Yeahhh, and take your prissy blonde Barbie with you, too" Captain Gruff's girlfriend said.


I ignored her. I noticed she had a gold tooth on her bottom set of teeth that was shiny as ever. Good for her.  


Blake continued on sitting on the bar stool, arm around my waist, and responded without blinking an eye "We're. Not. Leaving. EARL."


Instantly everyone in that bar turned around. If that wasn't a cue to go, then I don't know what the fuck was.


The bar was silent, you could hear a pin drop.


"You don't want to make him mad." Sister golden tooth squealed. "You guys need to get the fuck out of here."


"Nope." Blake said.


...Oy.


Mister Gruff kicked the bar stool next to us. I don't know if he was trying to scare Blake or show off how high he could get his ginormous leg up in the air. I was personally impressed with the second choice.


Blake got up from his seat and motioned me to get in the corner.


Dear Blake, I know you were trying to protect me and all. But, take a cue from Patrick Swayze...No one puts Baby or Hotto in the corner. Thank you.


So there I was backed in a corner, watching Blake and Mister Gruff two step in a weird fashion for some pre ritual fight dance I didn't know grown men had.


And there came Sister golden tooth my way.


I ignored her and yelled for Mister Gruff to leave Blake alone.


"LET THEMMMM FIGHTTTT!!!!" Sister Golden Tooth screamed in my face.


"I'm right here, standing right in front of you. We're inside. There's no need for screaming in my face." I responded.


"LET THEMMMM FIGHTTTTT!!!!" she said again as she made her way closer to me and there I was in the corner...hoping that if we got into something, the mean monkey would be on my side.


"WHY ARE YOU SCREAMING AT ME?" I screamed back at her. "AS YOU CAN OBVIOUSLY SEE, I"M STANDING HERE LETTING THEM FIGHT."


I tried to peek around her big head and see what was going on, but couldn't see shit. So, I stood there. I knew I needed to get myself out of the corner. But, how?


So, me being the polite individual that I am, I asked her nicely if she could move.


(Yeah, I'm lame, I know.)


"YOU'RE NOT GOING ANYWHERE UNTIL THEY'RE DONE! I DONT WANT YOU TRYING TO PROTECT YOUR MAN."


...Umm okay. So, being polite wasn't going to work. So, I tried plan B...I just shoved my way through her.


It worked, until I felt my hair being pulled. ...Cheese and Fries, Lady, if you're gonna pull my hair, you might as well start smacking my ass too.


I turned around towards her.


"LET THEM BE, YOU BARBIE BITCH!" and then she slapped me. On the face. Hard.


I stood there. Mister Gruff I guess had been escorted out of the bar for starting shit and Blake was running to come by my side and get me.


I felt the right side of my face heat up and it stung really bad. Never in my life had I been slapped before.


Blake looked at me.


I turned towards him, with her still standing in front of me, and asked Blake " Did Sister golden tooth, just slap me?"


Blake just looked at me and nodded.


"That's all I needed to know." I said.


I tightened my fist and aimed straight for her face. The good bit of alcohol that was in her veins may have helped my cause, but that bitch was on the ground instantly.


I straightened my dress out and told Blake "Time to go."


As we ran out of there, I heard her yelling about her tooth. I wasn't sorry. Rule number one needed to be ignored and thank God my heels were fine.


The next day my hand was swollen and my ring that I was wearing on my hand that I hit her with was imprinted on my finger for a good three days.


So, I guess my Grandma was right..."That girl is about as fragile as a coal truck. She can fight with the heart of a pit bull while still maintaining her grace and curls in her hair. Bless the heart of whoever makes her mad."


xox
hotto.