When You're a Jet, You're a Jet

...from your first cigarette till your last dying day!!!!!!!!!!!

OR....something like that. It's from West Side Story.

I love a good musical.

I have a story in my life where I say "it was like West Side Story"

I like it. NO. I LOVE saying that.

What happened? Me. I happened.

There was a disagreement of some sort at a Filibertos.

Filibertos is a popular Mexican eatery for drunks. I could write an entire blog post about Fils. How you order. How you don't. How I nearly died on a bike trying to keep balance while holding a burrito while drunk. How I found a giant raw shrimp in the middle of my "Arizona burrito, no pico, plus sour cream"....but I won't. We are focusing on one evening.

So...some disagreement. Some white girls and some Hispanics.

West Side Story.

I, drunk, ironed it out. I wanted to make peace. Then , I, drunk, JUST HAD TO HAVE the last word. The Hispanics walk to the door. I am kneeling at a booth, holding a soda in my hand. I say some smart ass thing as they are walking out the door. The dude looks at me. "ahh crap" I think...just pissed him off. He back hands me across the face, knocks my drink out of my hand.

My friend, Mary, is up before my drink even meets the wall. She grabs him, punches him in the face.



I did nothing in this battle but provoke it. I didn't throw one punch. This shames me. But, it was confusing. I wasn't prepared. The insanity was overwhelming.

Suddenly there was punches to the head and screaming. At one point someone picked up one of the Hispanics and threw him across a condiment stand and straws went flying everywhere. It was the 4th of July of straws.

I am not kidding. You take away the blades and queer dancing...it was West Side Story.

I remember looking over at the workers at one point and they were all behind walls, watching with only their heads poking out.

It is Arizona. I can't believe no one had a gun. Someone yelled they were calling the police. My other friend said "NO NO NO. We are drunk, no calling the police".

The Hispanics left at a police threat and someone did call. The police were there in moments but the Hispanics already left. They were not new to crime. This was not their first rodeo, they backed their car out of the parking lot. In AZ we don't have front license plates so...this is a good idea. We couldn't get a plate number.

The police talked to us about it. One said "let me get this straight, you girls got in a fist fight with some Mexican thugs, are unharmed, and they ran away?"

Yes...yes...that is true.

It is a lesson to all. Do not fuck with me or my friends. Mostly my friends because I was worthless in this event.


Muffin Cake said...

WHY is this the first time I am hearing this story?!?!?

Aime said...

HA! I love that this story has been written down EXACTLY as it has been told in spoken word and in real life. The clear next step is to do a made for TV movie about it.

ps - I was the one trying to break it up and getting punched in the head while you just stood there and watched the may-lay you created. You little bitch.

Casie said...

Oh how I miss those days.... Mardy is ALWAYS an entertaining drunk!

Jaclyn said...

This is fantastic.

Anonymous said...

I want the names of all involved so I can picture it! (Minus juan, juan, miguel, and juan)

Laura said...

Note to self...NEVER bitch-slap Mardy when Mary is around! Riggers 1, Pinchi bendejos 0!

Staude and I once sat at the drive thru for about 20 minutes before we realized Fils was closed. Oh, the good old days and the hazy memories :)

Mere said...

It was not a bitch slap...it was an angry back-hand.

I know...I got it.