Don’t Mess With Chinese Dudes Packing Mag- Lites....
I was chilling in SushiBar while having a couple drinks as this was usually the night that West Ashley’s finest (trashiest) would come out searching for their next attempt at playing Russian Roullette with Venereal Disease while sporting their favorite MTV-inspired apparel. Most of these guys would probably refer to me as a friend. They probably also think that I’m the only ginger that has a soul. HAH!!!!!
While I was doing my nightly jump off the wagon I heard this loud commotion coming from the men’s bathroom with the unmistakable broken English (or is the Engrish?) of PSP yelling to Brett who was working the door. I saw Brett running in and I followed in order to help him out just in case he got jumped or something. When I walked in I saw fists go flying in front of my face. It was like in the The Matrix where Neo did a limbo in order to dodge bullets from one of the agents that wasn’t played by Hugo Weaving. I instinctively reacted by performing my best Randy Couture impersonation and secured double under-hooks while pinning him against the wall so that he couldn’t strike me or anyone else. He kept trying to hit me so I responded by using an outside leg trip while keeping my under-hooks secured.
What i saw next could only be described as something out of one of the Saw movies. There was blood gushing from a cut on BlondeRoid’s head and it was going EVERYWHERE. I’m not exaggerating one bit. There was blood all over his shirt. All over the floor. All over his face and more importantly all over my face. It was like that scene in Desperado when that portly Mexican dude shot Antonio Banderas from behind and got his brain matter blown all over Banderas’s face from a double helping of barrel under his chin for his trouble. Just replace El Mariachi (Banderas) with the Ginger you are currently reading from and you’ll get the idea.
I was instantly mortified. Where the fuck did he hit his head? It’s not like he fell close enough to the bucket-style urinals to hit it there and I would have heard a thud if it whacked the floor. I also certainly didn’t hit him as I’ve always found blood chokes (i.e. rear-naked, guillotine, arm-triangle, etc.) to be way more effective and smarter legally as long as you have had the proper training in submission grappling (i.e. Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, sambo, submision wrestling, or whatever the fuck Greg Jackson teaches). There are horror stories abound about bars being sued due to bouncers placing guys in chokes and killing them but there is a simple way to avoid that; LET GO WHEN THE GUY GOES LIMP. It should only take 5 seconds when a choke is applied properly. Bottonline line is that a few seconds of uncosciousness due to restricted blood flow to the brain is healthier than it being induced via blunt force trauma resulting in a concussion and possible long term brain damage.
Now before I tell you how BlondeRoids involuntarily donated plasma on a floor in a bathroom that resulted in more cocaine deals than Panama I have to explain something about SushiBar. When a fight broke out my biggest fear wasn’t being overwhelmed and having my ass handed to me. I knew enough to not put myself in that situation. It was involuntarily being involved in lynching some dumbass in an Affliction shirt (this is back when wearing one actually made people think you had hair on your nuts) because a bunch of the Chinese “employees” would hop out of no where like Batman and swarm the guy like a back of hungry army ants on a helpless frog with shitty tribal tattoos. Not only that but they also had a favorite weapon in the form of the good-ole Mag-Lite.
Now for those that aren’t cringing let me explain why a 5'5“ Chinese dude with a red hat weilding one (we called him the MagliteNinja) is so fucking scary. I’ll give you hypothetical situation:
1. Dumbass with wanna-be rock star apparel has too much to drink and decides he wants to be Steven Seagal from Hard to Kill.
2. Said dumbass starts fight and has to be restrained by bouncers just merely trying to protect him from himself.
3. As dumbass tries to resist due to all the martini’s he has been consuming he gets knocked unconscious out of no where by 5lbs of DD Batteries wrapped in steel.
4. Said MagliteNinja sheaths his mag-lite like he is the re-incarnation of Miyamoto Musashi.
5. THE HORROR!!! THE HORROR!!!!
This is what happened to BlondeRoids. Just replace MagliteNinja with PSP and that’s basically what happened. For all intents and purposes that was the end of the scuffle. I guess a 6 inch laceration caused by the flashlight eqiuvalent of crowbar will do that to even the most roided up of us. As BlondeRoids started to come back to his senses I told Brett to go fetch a First Aid kit since BlondeRoids had easily lost a pint of blood already and last time I checked alcohol isn’t a great coagulant. While trying to keephim calm to slow down his bleeding BlondeRoids started yelling about calling the cops even though he started the whole thing. Oh yeah did I mention that? This whole brawl started because he decided to go into roid rage and start banging the back of some dude’s head against the wall that he had outsized by 60lbs because he couldn’t take a joke.
What did I do? Did I try to make sense out of BlondeRoid’s lack of logic and try to appease him? If you think that then please go perform felatio on a blow torch right now. Even though i didn;t tell him to go fuck himself in those exact words I literally just walked out and told Brett that just walked in with the First-Aid kit to deal with him. This guy could suck my left nut if he thought that he could swing on me, get his head busted open by an angry Hong Kong native, have me try to help him, and then CALL THE COPS ON ME. It’s not that i was afraid of being arrested because i didn’t do anything illegal just that a little appreciation would have been nice. Fuck him.
Eventually the cops did show up and BlondeRoids tried to plead his case but when a 6‘2“ 240lbs drunked roided up version of Bart Simpson from a parrellel universe is making statements that are being contradicted by the completely sober (ish) bounncers and customer its an uphill battle at best. The cop figured out what happened (or just didnt care), called for an ambulance for BlondeRoids and more than likely informed him of how commiting a misdemeanor and calling the cops is not exactly a great idea. The cop called him an ambulance and he was taken to the hospital get the newly formed bleeding vagina on his head stitched up.
A few days later recieved a pictured text message with a photo of BlondeRoid’s head stitched up with the caption, “Don’t fuck with the [SushiBar]”.
More exactly don’t start a fight in a bar that is notorious for turning into a real life re-enactment of a Chinese Triad flick. Remember, they have numbers and Budhist concentration on their side. A combo which no amount of steroids and Rockstar energy drinks can match.
One of the many constants I’ve noticed from my years bouncing is that the main source of drama will almost always come from the employees you are supposed to protect. Usually it’s trivial issues like bartenders over-serving spoiled frat boys or drug deals in the men’s bathroom stall even though I am sure that the ladies have their own middle women to meet them while having their BFF’s escort them in order to “powder their nose”. These are only issues that bouncers who take their job WAY too seriously give two shits about. However there are other issues that can cause serious problems such as having to clean up the drama that an owner of a bar brings with him or sometimes having to clean up after a meat head has his head busted open by employees of a bar with (alleged) Triad connections.