>>> Up Shit Creek
By staff writer Michael Curtiss
March 7, 2007

I love Mardi Gras. It’s really not a complicated thing to love either. You drink lots of alcohol, and see some tits.

Sorry, I lost my train of thought, the fat kid next to me in the library wont stop squeaking his chair and laughing like a fatty fat fat fat.

Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, Mardi Gras. I love it for its simplicity. You really don’t have to be in New Orleans to have a good time. If you have a solid group of friends, and a decent bar to go to, the possibilities are endless. Of course, I knew it was a distinct possibility that my friends and I would get into trouble. That isn’t a surprise to me. But what was a surprise to me was that I would actually be the voice of reason on Mardi Gras. Go figure.

I wish I could tell you that I punched a fat kid squeaking in his chair in the library for Mardi Gras, but that’s actually going to happen in about five minutes. For Mardi Gras, we decided to go to a bar called Harry’s. This place is magical. It can hold right around 300 people at full capacity, and the majority of it is outside. They usually have great deals on drinks and live music.

“I was standing back from the whole thing sipping my beverage and laughing my ass off.”

Well, we showed up at right around 9:00 and the place was already fuckin’ nuts. It was a five dollar cover charge, which was bullshit for the amount they charged for a beer. We didn’t make a big deal out of it, and walked through the door.

This place was my kind of scene. There was decent live music, and lots of girls in revealing clothing. And no fat kid squeaking around in his chair. (My knuckles are white right now.)

We stood around and pounded $7 hurricanes and Bud Lights. With each passing sip, I found courage to approach every attractive girl that passed. I’m so smooth sometimes. A few more beers after that, I decided to dance and rub my genitals all over these young women on the dance floor… and they loved it. I loved it too. I was having a really fucking good time.

1:00 in the morning came around, and it was time for last call. That was probably a good thing, because I had a test the next morning and needed to get some sleep. Naturally, we were all shitfaced and decided to walk to a friend’s house rather than drive home. Pretty damn responsible if you ask me.

We turned the corner out of the bar and were carrying on like drunk people normally do.

Mike: You’ve all got a bunch of BABY DICKS!!
Friend #1:
Howdya know that mutha fucker?
Friend #2
: Yeah, why, ya lookin?!
You just admitted it!

And so on and so forth. Next thing I knew, a strange gentleman began yelling at us from a cab. We couldn’t hear what he was saying, so we moved in for a closer inspection. He continued on with his incoherent rambling, and my friend said,

Friend#1: Why don’t you come out and say that to my face you little bitch?

And so, this young man decided to get out of the cab and throw his hands up in the air. I really did respect his audacity. That shit took some balls… or at least a lot of alcohol. Anyway, my friends approached him and there was a moment of silence. At this point he pretty much knew that he was fucked. Then chaos ensued.

My friends pounced on this guy and completely kicked the shit out of him. The whole thing happened in about 15 seconds, and the cops showed up macing everyone. I was standing back from the whole thing sipping my beverage and laughing my ass off. The cops showed no mercy, and almost everyone including the girls got pepper sprayed.

Now, you may be thinking, “Mike sure is a pussy for not helping.” And you may be right, but I’m actually proud of myself. I took a step outside my drunken self, assessed the situation, weighed the opportunities and losses, and decided that this fight wasn’t even worth it. And I completely stand by that decision. He got his ass kicked anyway, everyone got maced to shit, and this girl got a ticket for kicking the guy in the face with her heals.

And I got to stand back and watch the whole thing unravel. I spoke with all of the cops after the fight, and told them exactly what happened. I actually saved a couple of my friends tickets because I’m a clear headed sonofabitch.

This really not might sound like a big deal to some of you, but it really is to me. I never “think” before I act. Especially when I’ve been drinking. But this time, for some reason, I did the smart thing. Maybe it’s because I am going on a cruise in a week, and didn’t want to jeopardize my monetary situation. Maybe it’s because I’m becoming more mature. Maybe it’s because that fat kid is still squeaking in his chair.

Whatever the reason, I feel like a better man as I write this. Now excuse me while I go kick the back of this kid’s chair.

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