I didn't want to be there.
Despite my objections, the group of crazies that I worked with had abducted me. The week before, I had a knock down drag out argument, losing my girlfriend of seven years after I walked in on her fucking with a couple of studs that she worked with. It was messy. Throwing the interlopers down the stairs and their clothes after them, I told Marcie to pack her shit and get out.
Still a bit raw even now, I was in no mood to have a good time. After a hard evening working the three to eleven shift as a hospital security officer, all I wanted to do was to go home and have a quiet beer or two before turning in. My co-workers would have none of my brooding mood. They seemed to think that a bunch of drunken redneck cowboys and a few long neck beers would cheer me up.
The Carrousel Lounge was one of those Bubba type beer bars that closed at 1:30 am or the third fight, whichever comes first. It was the closest place to the hospital that had live music. Our group had been there about a half-hour when the band finished it's second set of three. It was time for the musicians to come out from behind the chicken wire to take a break, stretching their legs, draining the kidneys, and wetting their whistles.
There was an ocean of people all of a sudden creating an ebb and flow effect between the bar, the johns, and tables. I was just about to leave when I saw the movement from the corner of my eye, but it was too late to react. The beer and the girl dropped in my lap at the same time. Some drunken cowboy had stumbled into her, knocking the girl in my direction. She and I were both soaked with the gallon pitcher of suds she had been carrying. Shaken but unhurt, the girl was looking around for something to crawl under as we both got to our feet.