Fight Club

On the way to meet a friend I passed a bar in Northbridge where something was stirring. I badly needed to pee so I paid little attention to ruckus across the street. I walked quickly and thought only of dry happy things.

What made me stop was the scream of a young woman and a sudden eruption near the bar entrance. Then, a clump of men spilled out of the bar and rolled unto tile pavement. There was about eight of them, all huddled closely. Two of them obviously very upset, as they spat and swore at each other. Their faces red like tomatoes, yells accompanied with swinging arms restrained only by the group friends surrounding them.

What followed took me by surprise.

A third unknown guy previously just standing and watching ran towards one of the restrained men and drilled a right punch on the guy's face. Even the friends couldn't stop the victim falling to the ground. The third guy followed the punch with a knee but another has now darted towards him with swinging fists. The third guy tripped over and he was now being kicked in the stomach by a forth guy. Their fight so close to the road, cars have stopped to watch the ruckus.

One of the restrained guys had gotten loose and had started punching and kicking on the first that has fallen.

I’m about a fifty feet away and I can hear the thuds of the kicks and punches being exchanged. The sight of raw blood spilling unto the ground was awful.

What I thought was a common two-man bar brawl has now turned into a small riot with around 8 guys going one on one. Me and a lot more just stood there and watched.

The perimeter of their fight was getting bigger. Some bystanders have run away and I found myself dangerously close to the daylight fight club.

Standing there, I was no longer thinking about my bladder or my friends or family or hits on my blog site. I didn’t know what was going on but I felt the impending danger. My fist clenched, thumbs tucked in.

Fight or flight.

What would have made this an an interesting story was for me to Bruce Lee my way through the group of strangers. My fists flicking their faces and my kicks depressing internal organs. The finale would be a match up with the biggest and strongest of all. I would ask him to surrender because he killed my master, (with a voice slightly off synced with my lips) before I unleashed my dragon-butterfly-praying-mantis-palm-of-the-white-tiger kung-fu technique on him.

But in reality, the brawling stopped when bouncers stepped out. The bouncers didn't really do much, but their black jackets and burly bodies was a presence striking enough to stop them fighting.

And suddenly, it was back to normal again. Bystanders hiding in nearby stores came out, people started walking again and traffic flowed again.

Friends consoled the injured. I got a better view of the guy who was pounced. His blonde hair now stained with blood, his shirt bandaging his head.

It’s really impossible to tell what happens in a street fight. There is no code of honour or rules or practice runs. Anything goes. You find a lead pipe, you use it. You kick them in the crotch then you knee them on the head. You can get lucky and get a few swings in and you could get unlucky and rupture your kidney and die a few hours afterwards. A fight is a scary thing.

I wanted to stay and see what happened next, but I needed to pee.