Last night was an absolutely brutal night.  Normally, Thursdays are pretty damn good.  I get to strap on my body armor and test my mettle against like-minded crazy people.  That part, at least, was typical.  The only blemish on an otherwise good practice was the fact that my lazy ass still hasn’t repaired my pauldrons so my dump-blocks would all result in my own sword being smashed into my left shoulder.  Fun stuff.

I rolled in to work at 10ish.  I was hoping for an easy night.  My shoulder was (and still is) quite tender.  I hadn’t even been there for half an hour when we got an ugly toss.  Some jack-off was getting belligerent over our insistence that the girl he was hitting on must leave.  My fellow security decided he had to leave too, and shit got worse.  Jack-off’s friend intercepted the other security guy, so I slipped past him and kept the pressure on to make sure Jack-off kept moving.  The usual protests ensued: “What did I do?  I’m not moving until you tell me why.”  “Why” may change, but the number of times they need it explained is always the same.  For those of you not paying attention, a drunk person needs the situation explained N+25 times, where N = the number of times I have the patience to calmly explain. 

We had had a staff meeting earlier in the day, and one of the things we talked about was improving customer service.  I tried very hard to be nicer than usual.  It got to the point where I literally begged Jack-off to keep moving.  That didn’t happen.  Surprise.  I did the usual and tried to take control of the situation.  I took him in a headlock and started pulling him out.  His friend kept yelling something about being able to calm him down.  Like that EVER works.  The guy twisted in my grip and picked me up.  I kicked us against the wall so that he had nowhere to put me.  He tried several more times.  No luck for him.  He changed tactics and tried to throw me to the ground.  I stepped in front and did some twisting of my own. I dropped him and fell on him like an undermined wall.  I braced for his inevitable struggle to get out.  He clawed at my face a few times, scratching me pretty good, but I had him.  I know I’m lucky that he couldn’t think clearly enough to start fighting really dirty, but let that go.  Finally, my boss and my other security guy got there and helped drag Jack-off out. 

I declined to swear out a complaint.  Fuck it.  He was already going to detox.  I didn’t need to make his day worse.

Maybe 20 minutes later, I watched a dude vomit on the patio.  Bounce number two.  I cleaned up the vomit.  At least the dude went easily.  His friends didn’t even seem mad.  Sometimes the silver lining is easy to find. 

Shit went on in this fashion all damn night.  Absolutely ridiculous.  Makes me wish the Broncos never win another game.

I slept awfully.  Too much adrenaline.  The standard amount of caffeine.  The screaming pain in my shoulder.  The ringing in my ears. 

Waking up wasn’t the reprieve I was hoping it would be.  A ghost from my past wants to be my friend on facebook.  All the work I’ve done, all the healing, the long fight to forgive myself and forget her – all burned to ash by a little icon on a monitor.  Why?  Why would she want to know me now?  What could I say to her?  What could she say to me?

And the stupidest part of all is that I said yes. 

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