Picking a Fight

I was sitting at my local bar waiting for my friends to arrive to watch the game. Two guys sitting a few seats away kept giving me strange looks, and one of them said, “What are you looking at?” I looked around to make sure that he was speaking to me, and before I could respond he said, “You want a piece of me? You and what army? Let’s take it outside.”

By this time, I realized that this guy was trying to pick a fight with me and I wasn’t sure what to do. I was hoping that I could make peace with him or at least hold him off until my friends got there.

I said to him, “I’m just sitting over here minding my own business. I’m not trying to get in your face. I don’t have a problem with you. Let’s just chill out and I’ll buy you and your friend a drink.” He didn’t seem to like what I’d said.

“Chill out?” he said. “I don’t need to chill out. Those are fighting words. Let’s take this outside. I want to see you running with your tail between your legs.” He got up and started to walk toward me.

Just then, my friends arrived. When the man saw my six friends walking toward me, he stopped in his tracks. I think he was weighing his odds and doubting his own chances. He turned around and said something to his friend, and then they both got up and walked out the door.

That was a narrow escape. I had never been so happy to see my friends as I was at that moment. Needless to say, the first round was on me.