I couldn’t believe he just snooked me. It was go time

Giving someone the finger is the typical gesture of offense. We don’t bite our thumbs anymore, like in Romeo and Juliet, but I think we should rekindle the art of snooking. To snook is to perform a rude gesture made as a sign of contempt, thumb on the nose and fingers out-stretched. It was the primary signal of insult in the late 18th century.

I also feel we should reinstate the glove-smack-to-the-face challenge. If you are going to fight, you have to make it clear. You can’t just sucker punch someone. There needs to be some sort of code again. I’m not a fighter, but I’ve been hit in the head a couple of times. Most were a result of what I said and should have known it was coming, but on one occasion that wasn’t the case.

I was drunk in a bar. It was the Metro in Calgary. Another drunk blamed me for spilling his beer. He told me to buy him another one. I refused and walked away. My friend, Cartwright was talking with one of the bouncers. He was actually trying to pick up a beer tub girl, but ended up talking to the other staff member standing beside her. Anyway I went over and joined in the conversation.

It was a $1.50 high ball night and I was having a great time. As this other drunk guy walked past, he asked if we were tattling to the bouncer on him. I said no, and seconds after his fist hit my face twice. His buddy hit Cartwright once before the bouncer jumped in and escorted the evil duo out. No damage was done to my face. I got a free beer and everything was all good.

Cartwright and I wandered around the place looking for people we knew. All of the sudden the pair was back in the bar and had spotted us. They came in through the front. The doorman didn’t know they had been thrown out because they were escorted through a side door. Anyway, they came right up to us. Cartwright bolted. One guy grabbed my arms, while the other drove his knuckles into my head. I managed to tuck my chin into my neck so I took the brunt of the hits with forehead. I wouldn’t doubt that he broke a knuckle on my thick skull. I suffered a cut in my right eyebrow, and was asked to leave. I still have a small scar to this day. Cartwright was already outside. We got in a cab and headed home.

The next day I had a hangover and Cartwright had a story about how he scared the two off. His buddy Chad asked me what really happened? Did he run? Yep. Anyone that knew him, knew he was full of crap. But the story he told was a lot better than I got my ass kicked while he ran story. So, I didn’t really care.