For legal reasons, this is fiction.

I was at Night Club 101 for Danielle Chelosky’s special edition Weird Fucks release party for Female Loneliness Epidemic (it’s a problem, I hear) and at the beginning of the reading before there were any readings at all two idiots, a crustpunk white dude and his somewhat chopped Asian girlfriend, wandered onto the stage, probably drunk, definitely high, and started speaking idiocies. Now, I don’t remember what these idiocies were. I think they complained about the music, said that the event was lame, and I vaguely recall the crustpunk dude tried to freestyle a manifesto. But I’m not sure. I’d only had one drink, a shot of bad whiskey, and I wasn’t paying close attention. I was in camera zone, click away, pretty entertained. I love idiots. Or at least some of them anyway. Raising their fists in the air, they made for compelling subjects. I would’ve probably let them keep going a little while longer, but Danielle doesn’t share my love for idiots. She hates them, and after a few minutes of their idiocy, had had enough and took the stage, asking them to please stop, telling them that they’re being rude, and affirming that this was her event. But like true idiots they didn’t listen. Eventually, when Danielle managed to take the microphone back, they both got in her face, which is when I got involved for some reason, probably out of some “toxically masculine” protective instinct that I’d say is born of chivalry, but is likely just an excuse to establish dominance or whatever. In any case, the guy didn’t recoil, and said I was a player hater with no drip, so I told him bro, you look like you came out of the fucking sewer, and then we traded more insults I don’t remember, but were probably stupid on his part, and clever and biting on mine, until security came over. The security guard told me, “Chill homie, you the man, I got this,” and I obliged, thinking he had it. But the security guard clearly didn’t have it, and the crustpunk idiot kept running his mouth, even as his girlfriend backed away. Again, what was being said I’m not really sure of, other than it was some of the worst English I’d ever heard from a native speaker. The guy was probably educated but just dumb.

In the chaos, another idiot emerged, a vigilante idiot with black glasses, who poured his drink on the crustpunk idiot, then smashed the glass over his head, causing blood to go fucking everywhere, it was like a rainstorm of blood, and the whole room fell dead silent, as if we paused a movie. I said nothing. The security said nothing. The only one still saying something was the crustpunk, who I’m pretty sure was not even complaining about being hit by a glass. 

Security kicked them out, the crustpunk idiot kicking and screaming, the vigilante idiot willing but shocked. After ten minutes of making the rounds, I went outside, needing a smoke, where I found the vigilante idiot waiting for me, earnest and somewhat sheepish.

“Hey Dove… do you think I ruined the reading….?”