I'm awaken at 2:30 AM to shouting outside my bedroom window, same as every night. Bunch of drunks. I lay in bed and listen. The shouting gets louder, guys calling each other f@#ers. One guys says, "Come on mother f@#*er!" There's crying. I get out of bed open my blinds and look down into the ally next to the very classy Jack's Tavern. A totally sauced chick is curled up sobbing on the wet pavement while her low life boyfriend is rolling around with two guys, punching and kicking. One guy runs up and kicks the low life boyfriend in the face with his boot. "Don't hit a woman, man!" Apparently the boyfriend had just hit his girlfriend, thats why she's laid out on the ground.
A car pulls up and a woman in the passenger seat rolls down the window. "It's New Year's guys. Stop. Don't do this. Peace and love! It's a new year. Peace!"
The men are still fighting. Fireworks are bursting in the sky above them lighting up the whole scene in a festive glow.
I lean my head out the window, "I'm calling the cops! Knock it off! I'm trying to sleep!"
Andy is in my room calling 911.
Last night one of these drunks busted out my front windshield, looks like with maybe a bowling ball, and now tonight a massive brawl below my window.
I hate bars. I feel bad for these people. What a way to ring in the new year.
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