Drunken Man Love Tackling

Last night LSD and I were awakened to yelling and what sounded like a scuffle outside our bedroom window in the alley.  After listening further, it sounded like some poor guy was getting beaten up by a few other guys, so I decided to call 911 in an attempt to help him out.  Then I heard LSD laughing from the bathroom.  She told me that if I peered out of the open bathroom window at the right angle, I could see what was happening.

One guy had his buddy pinned down on the floor, and because they were so shit-canned drunk, we could hear every word they bellowed, and here it is as best as I can remember:

Chad: You're really going to do that?  You're going to punch your best friend?

Steve: I know.  I know . . . 

Chad: Over a girl?

Steve: You're right.  You're always fuckin' right (repeat nine or ten times)

Then I felt kind of bad calling the cops because although they were some idiotic drunks, all they were hurting was each other.  Well, it's okay because it seems as if Chad got up off Steve and the two of them stumbled into the sunset (or sunrise, more accurately) before the police arrived.  What I should have done was this:

Dr. Ken: Hey, boys!  So what happened with the girl?

Chad: What the fuck business is that of yours?

Steve: Yeah!  What the fuck?! (Steve seemed to be pretty limited in terms of his mental capacity, and he was mighty drunk)

Dr. Ken: Well, you did wake me and my lady-friend up, so the least you can do is let me know what all the fuss was about.

Chad: Well, asshole here wouldn't go for the brunette because he always has to have the blond, even though I tried to tell his drunk ass that the blond said she liked me and the brunette liked him.

Dr. Ken: So then you went home with neither?

Chad: Right

Dr. Ken: And now you're lying on top of one another in a dirty alley?  Together?

Steve: Hey!  You're the one that's the damn fag, window guy!

Dr. Ken: Steve, your friend is right.  You always take what comes your way in times like that.  Were they both hot?

Both: . . . Yeah

Dr. Ken: Then you just go with how it happens organically.  The odds of each of you getting serious with both of them after a drunken Tuesday are pretty slim so no need to fight.

Steve: No way, dude!  I think I love that blond one!

Dr. Ken: Not likely, Steve.  You don't even know her name, and what kind of prospect for a girlfriend gets blind drunk on a Tuesday like that?  Just see what you think in the morning.

Both: Fuck you!

Steve: Yeah, fuck you, window guy! 

------------------------------------
Then again, calling the cops and going back to sleep was probably the move.  In other news, here is a link to what is coming soon to my Chicago based blog, The Liars Club, often times involving crazies like these crazy Chicagoans.