Our Version of Diversion

[Dave Cook]

"Another Dead Soldier," growled Kevin, as he flipped his empty across the room into the wicker wastebasket. "And I'm getting a trifle worried about the reserve troops," he added, " I really don't think that we can keep this campaign going until dawn without some reinforcements."
"Or we could slow down" I said, grinning at my own stupid joke. Like THAT would ever happen.
We'd started celebrating the night before, at first because it was Tony's birthday, then because we were having so much fun, and when dawn broke and we were still celebrating, it was because we'd kept it up for the night and into a new day. Now, I don't know, I guess we were celebrating because we could still perform simple motor tasks like opening a bottle and putting the open end into our mouths and swallowing. Tricksters, we were.
All of this clever talk wasn't going to help too much with the forthcoming problem, which was what we were going to do when the last six-pack was finished, it was still daylight, and our bodies were screaming for more; obviously, some drastic action was called for. And soon, while we could still walk and talk without tipping off the normal world as to our secret identities. Deadly drunks we were, and not to be messed with.
So off we go, into the cheerful daylight, late spring bursting all around us and whispering sweet promises of sunny happy days ahead; we were young, carefree, and terribly broke.
Along the way to the bar, we ran into the Bobs, a pair of good guys and always ready for an adventure. We soon hatched a plot, and as far as drunken plots go, it seemed to be a good one.
The Bobs went first, into the dank and gloom of Irv's bar. A sewer of a place and the scene of many crimes, it felt just like home. We had to act carefully. The old adage about never shitting where you eat haunted our thoughts, but true desperation drowned out all cautionary thought and we followed the Bobs into the bar after a few minutes had passed.
The place was full of the usual afternoon crowd: the old guys biding their time, Gary and Cathy fighting at a table in the corner; that's all they ever did, was fight and then make up. True love.
Kevin initiated the contact while I straightened the coat hanger I'd grabbed on my way in. A loop at one end completed the task, and I was then able to watch as Kevin walked up to Bob 1, and gave him a fierce crack up the side of his head. It sounded like a 2x4 whacking an overripe canteloupe. Bob came slowly to his feet, shaking his head and raising a huge fist. He countered Kevin's next jab with a shot to the gut, and Kevin doubled half over before catching his wind and then the two surged into one another, swearing and spitting and wildly throwing punches at one another. It was a great show; and while everyone's eyes were fixed on the battle of the century, it was my time to go to work. Using my coat hangar, I deftly (well, drunk as I was, I felt pretty deft) looped the closest full bottle at my end of the bar (Kesslers, but full, and full was good), dragged it as close as I could, then extended my body fully across the bar, snagged the bottle, and while the fight was grinding to a halt, managed to slip out the side door, holding our swag under my shirt and trying to look innocent.
After that, things went along much as you'd imagine. A few hours later, the Bobs, Kevin and I were a bit drunker, and soon it was time to replenish our vital bodily fluids. This time, though, it was a bit easier to keep the almighty buzz going, night brings out the hunters.....and the hunted. There were pool games to hustle, pinball machines to play, and a crowd of new kids on the block to entertain with our unquenchible good cheer and spirit. Life was good again.
A few days after the great bar brawl, Irv came by his bar and told me that he knew what had happened that afternoon, and how he happened to be out of a nearly-new bottle of Kessler's. I got thrown out for a few days until my pals and I paid him back and solemnly promised to NEVER, EVER, do that again in his bar. But we had our fingers crossed when we made our solemn vow.