After the night of heavy drinking, we were all pretty heavily hungover. Of course, there was only one cure possible...
Hair of the Dog.
So, we stopped at a little bar in a little town. I don't remember the name... I think I was drunk at the time or something. We walked in, sauntering through the haze of smoke and biker B.O. and walked up to the bar.
"Four Beers."
"Hey... Nice Ass." A voice behind us said.
Erin rolled her eyes and turned to face the fat, smelly glob of a man who she assumed was talking about her. (I was just praying he wasn't talking about me...)
"Back off, little man, or... um... Kevin here will kick your ass."
The biker looked at me. He laughed. I was nervous. Okay, I was about to wet myself. It was about two seconds before he decided just to kick my scrawny ass and be done with it.
Too bad he was left handed.
He grimaced in pain as he withdrew his freshly-broken left hand. The sound of his bones breaking against the titanium that had replaced the right half of my jaw (after a kneeboarding incident... looooong story) years ago was satisfying, but I just wanted to pass out from the pain.
