Last night I headed up security for a local Bartender’s Ball. This is an invitation-only event, sponsored by the people who bring you
. With food & an open bar & a live band provided, we had busloads of industry people flocking to a tented outdoor patio.
The evening went rather smoothly. For the most part, industry people understand that shitting in someone else’s kitchen will quickly reflect back on your establishment, and so they don’t cause drama. There was one douchebag who decided to call two of my bar girls whores & proceeded to throw bleu cheese at them.
I love cheese.
I approached him and gently encouraged him to exit the pavilion…at which point he
grabbed my wrist with a rather firm grip for a drunkpunk.
I actually paused & debated seeing if I could pull off a shiho-nage…but instead just decided to dumog his arm into a hammerlock & walk him outside.
That was the only douchebag of the night.
I spent the majority of the evening perched on a patio above the pavilion next to an open bar staffed by gorgeous young women who were eager to serve me shots all night. Alas, I was working, but they did provide plenty of conversation as I kept an eye on the multitude of drunken bartenders.
The reaction of bartenders to the words “open bar” is positively Pavlovian.
So, whilst averting my attention from the bar girls’ attributes & focusing on the crowd, I see a flurry of motion resembling punches being thrown across the patio. I send word to the rest of my guys that we have a fight & head straight toward the action.
What happened next I am still reeling from, attempting in vain to recover.
I come upon a rather large Guido, a stocky Asian…and a drop dead gorgeous 
. Turns out their is no fight, rather, the young lady was “demonstrating”.
As I approach, I hear her say, “But in Filipino boxing, we’d do this…”
She coaxes the guido to throw a demo jab…AND GUNTINGS HIS ARM!!!
He yelps, she giggles & staggers. I realize there’s no fight & she’s drunk. I see my crew approaching & wave them off as I introduce myself to the young lady & her compatriots. I make small talk, avoiding mentioning martial arts, just asking if they were enjoying the evening. One, I wanted to break up the little impromptu demonstration before it attracted too much attention & some idiot decided to take it from demonstration to a scene out of “Never Back Down”. Two, I seriously needed to get to know this young lady.
I asked her if she did Kali or Panantukan & she was impressed I knew those terms. She asked me to put my hands up, palms open, so she can show me a combo. I do.
She throws a perfect straight lead into my left palm. I am momentarily impressed. She’s ditzy drunk, but accurate. Her breasts are perfect in her low cut black evening gown, tanned skin, tantalizing cleavage…
Her right fist slams straight into my nose, bypassing my open right palm. Something crunches. My head whips back. My eyes slam shut, tearing up instantly.
I hear my team mate nearby begin to roar with laughter.
It’s the first time I’ve ever been punched in the face on the job & not tossed the puncher.
And it was worth it.