On Saturday night, I managed at my old restaurant. Everything was going well. My new bangs had received an adequate number of compliments. Customers were enjoying their dining experiences. The Party Lion and the ‘dazzled Dolphin were behind the bar. Two people walked in and asked for a table, your typical hot gay guy/slightly chunky fabulous lady duo. A flag went up when their server, the Lanky Llama, complained that they hadn’t ordered food after over an hour of sitting down, saying they had something serious to discuss*. A quick peek at their table told me things were not going well.
A short while later the chunky fabulous lady was bolting out the door. Hot gay guy was right behind her, grabbing her arm. I don’t care who looks like they could kick whose ass more, no man should ever put his hands on a woman. It makes me nervous. I watched as they yelled their way back and forth in front of our restaurant. As he had one hand on her arm and the other grabbing the belt loop on the back of her pants, dangerously close to Eighth Avenue, I yelled to the hostess to call the police. The Lanky Llama headed outside to break up the fight. I headed out right after him, and the bartender from the restaurant next door** was right behind me. Once we were out there, we realized the woman had the guy’s phone and was screaming, “Give me my money or I am taking your phone. Michael, you are an asshole!” Relief flooded over me as I had really wanted to know why they were fighting and at last I knew it.
That relief was short-lived, as the fight (more like a passive wrestling match) continued on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant. Out of nowhere, one of the hottest guys I have ever laid eyes on appeared in the middle of everything and stuck his hand out and took the phone and gave it back to guy who had been powerless to get it back for himself. This super hot guy happens to work at the restaurant and we are friends, but his appearance was surprising nonetheless, as he’d been cut several hours earlier. The momentarily triumphant “Michael” came back in to get his backpack and the Lanky Llama, now a hero in my eyes, made him pay the check as his lady friend waited outside, glaring at him through the glass.
* This is one of my biggest pet peeves. People come into a restaurant and then act like the server is being a dick when he tries to take your order. It’s like going to the library and being annoyed by all the books.