So, on Friday night, walking to catch the 11:30 bus after The Blow show, a guy in an AC/DC hoodie started to sidle up. He asked me something that sounded like "When's the last time you got bled?" to which I responded "Did you just ask me when was the last time I got bled?" He was kind of mumbling, kind of slurring his speech, and his response to that was something along the lines of "I'm just fucking with you" but he continued to sidle up real close. He asks if I want to fight, I say no. I don't really remember the entirety of the conversation. He was clearly drunk. There were implications that he wanted to get in a fight, or just gaybash. I eventually stopped walking, he walked away to his friend at the bus station. I turned around and walked in the opposite direction.

A guy rides up to me on a bike. "Were you talking shit on my boy?" "No." He yells back "Hey, is this the guy?" to a dude who is not wearing an AC/DC hoodie, but rather, is shirtless. I cross to the other side of the street. The bike rolls up in front of me, kind of perpendicular to the side of Dumpster Values, fencing me in a little. Shirtless dude has now fully sidled, and bike guy says "Look, you're going to fight my friend or I'm going to fuck you up."

I have no problem with fighting an asshole. I feel weird about fighting an asshole when the only other person around is the asshole's equally assholish friend. Also, I am wearing glasses. But anyway, a tussle ensues, I don't think I do any damage when I punch the guy because I am in something of a headlock. Eventually, we're down on the sidewalk to curb area, I am trying to smash his head against a parking meter or else gouge out his eyes with my thumbs, (although I'm concerned about the other friend standing guard) meanwhile I am worried about being curb-stomped. I at some point yell "Hey does anyone want to help me out so I don't have to fight this asshole" and shortly thereafter some big dudes wearing jackets with Dead Kennedys patches pull him off me. My glasses are scratched and I keep on imagining myself dead with my jaw hanging off, blood dripping onto the Andrew Jeffrey Wright silkscreened rainbow beard t-shirt, body found outside a pizza place I don't particularly care for.