I was leaning against the bar
absently stirring my drink
when there was a tap on my shoulder:

“Hey, get the fuck out of my way. I need a beer.”

I decided to ignore it. Maybe it would go away.
But no, there were several taps on my shoulder now.

“Didn’t you fucking hear me? Move it! HEY BUDDY! GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY WAY! NOW! I SAID NOW!”

I sighed, stood up, turned fully around and looked down at this college kid
that appeared to be the source of the problem.
This boy
who looked like he enjoyed mom’s cooking
sleeping in on Saturdays with his thumb in his mouth
like an infant
and generally sauntering through life in his pyjamas
also looked like he would hurt himself a lot more
in the process of trying to hurt me.

I didn’t even say anything. I just looked at him. But I suppose it was enough
because he immediately changed his tune:
“Hey man, I’m really sorry. I’m really fucked up right now. Sorry, man, sorry.
I’m really fucked up.”
He kept repeating it and patting me on the shoulder
and it was pissing me off more than his initial bravado
until his friends dragged him away.

He smiled and gave me the thumbs up
like that strange, one-sided altercation
had somehow made us friends.

I don’t know if he was trying to impress his friends or his girl
if he was really that fucked up or was just an asshole.
Most likely a fine mixture of all of that.
What I do know is that he’s lucky he didn’t try that
on my good friend standing beside me
because he would have fucking killed him.

I returned to the bar and to absently stirring my drink.

Fucking kids. I thought.