Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Photo from my 28th birthday party
With my hectic work schedule blog posts has been few and far between for the Puma. Since I last graced you all with my written presence a few good things have happened. The Chicago Bulls returned, the Bears season has all but ended, and most importantly to you all I turned 28. As I sat back and celebrated my 28 years on this earth with my friends this weekend I couldn’t help but think of past birthdays celebrated and how classy they were. Today my friends I tell you the legendary tale of my 27th birthday.
Now because my job has so much business during the holiday season if my birthday falls during the week I celebrate on the weekend. Last year was no different. After working for a few hours that Saturday I went home, napped, ate a quick meal and it was off to a low key evening at some of the classier establishments in all of Wrigleyville. After grabbing a few beers the evening shifted to Mad River, a spot where to be fair 95% percent of all my evenings on the town end up. This visit however would not be like any other visit I had ever experienced.
It all started as many nights do, a few drinks, a few boisterous claims of my own dominance in the realm of whatever topic I was ranting on and even cutting a little rug out there to some of the time’s most popular music. Upon chatting with a friend the decision to imbibe some of the devil’s nectar politely known as Jameson was made. As we navigated through the beer soaked dance floor we were graced with the presence of a demure and shy flower who sashayed saucily towards us. She slurred those words every guy wants to hear. “Wanna buy me a drank?!?!?!” Struck by her brazenness I offered to grab the aforementioned whiskey for my pal and I but get her free water. As I passed her a young gentleman yelled something at me.
I looked back incredulously. Who would have a problem with getting a drunk girl water? Well that would be a young man in a wheelchair. He rolls up to me and yells “oh you’re a rapist!” Thinking I had heard something wrong as we were in a loud setting I lower my eye level and lean in to hear what he said. He yells the same thing. Accusing me of trying to take advantage of the drunken girl who accosted me and my friend for booze? I could have taken the high road. I could have.
Because I am a class act I politely told him a few things he could do outside of getting in my business and proceeded to walk away. This guy rolls after the Puma! I attempted to avoid him but this mobile fucker had to have the final say. Finally it happens, the Puma snapped! I get down on one knee and am face to face with this bastard. We proceed to go back and forth until I am pulled away by one of my more level headed friend and he said the phrase that now that I look back and can see it was the brightest thing said that night. “If a black guy kicks a white guy in a wheelchair in the chest, you will go to jail.” I immediately calmed down enough to not continue the disagreement with the combative handicapable douche. We left the bar, we bought pizza and the incident has since never been repeated.
So just to recap, got into a skirmish with a kid in a wheelchair, threatened to kick him in the chest and had to be physically restrained. I think getting sick off whiskey on my 28th birthday was actually the mature thing. See ma! I’m growing up.