Fights... and my role in them.

Tyler Durden said something that has always stuck with me and caused me to look within myself a bit. And every time I find myself in that situation where I know that a fight is about to go down, a strange feeling washes over me and I hear his words; " How much do you really know about yourself if you haven't been in a fight?" 

I'm looking at the age of 27 coming 'round the bend this year and I'm still wondering and waiting for a one on one, hay-makers to the face, full out fight! I've never learned what I can deliver and what I can take from another dude in the heat of battle.  And this makes me a strange kind of curious. I'm not lookin' to start shit for nothing because I know one day I'll get into a serious tussle for a good reason. I'll have the fuel inside to drive me to inflict pain without regard. 

Wow, I wonder what your thinkin' about me now? I never said I was a pacifist. 

I've been in a few brawls over the years. The kind that begin with a one on one tilt, or more typically, a dirty jumping at a bar, where all hell breaks loose and everyone else jumps in to even it out or break it up. I'm a "break it up" kinda guy. The problem is there's these other clowns that ask questions last and go straight for the break it up guy. Only makes things worse. In my experience I've been fairly untouched because I'm a decently big dude that knows how to make an effective crazy face. But when the all out brawl out gets underway, I'm what the British would call a "tosser." I grab anyone I don't know by the scruff and throw em' with everything I got. I keep an eye out on the main fighters (usually Flanny or Darling in my group) and I make sure they're winning with no dummies on their backs. 

In almost every brawl I can remember being in, we've been outnumbered and I've thrown a lot of dirty bastards off my buddies. But I've never thrown a solid punch. At least not one I can recall. The instinct doesn't seem to be there. Yet when I grab the son of a bitch and toss his ass to the ground, he doesn't come back because I tend to stare at em' with a fucked up face like I'm gonna eat em'. They stay out of it. 

I threw a guy into an oncoming car during one memorable scrap on Halloween, up in St. Catherine's. It was one of Flanny's bouts with quite a few of us involved. The whole thing stopped instantly when the dude smacked onto the car. What was even better was the fact that we were all dressed up in costumes. I was Ron Burgundy.