Thanksgiving - A Time for Giving Thanks

Have you ever woken up and just felt rundown? Well I have too, but mine was more in a literal sense.

It was the Thanksgiving holiday season. The day was Wednesday and I was riding home with a fellow Hondo friend to meet up with the family and hopefully get in a little partying with the old high school buds. On the outskirts of San Antonio I decide to call up my buddy Craig who works in San Antonio to find out the scoop of what I can expect as far as parties go while I’m down. He quickly informs me that a big crew of guys were going to Cowboys in SA to watch Cross Canadian in concert. Hells yeah! I’m down!

I get home around 6:30 and reluctantly tell my parents, whom I haven’t seen since Sept 1, that I will be leaving in an hour to drive back to SA for the concert. My mom whips up a quick meal as if sending me off school and the next thing I know we’re on our way to the concert.

Once we get there, we quickly find out that there are about 123 thousand people there, of which, 80% were girls way younger than me wearing short skirts, cowboy boots and awfully perty tank tops. Discrimination holds this country back so I don’t age discriminate. Things were good and the girls thought I was 20. We commence to party like animals and take shots like a group of alcoholics at communion. The night is good, but 2 AM rolls around and it’s time for the drunks to go.

I’m supposed to be riding with Craig home, but in a brief moment of clarity on an otherwise hazy night, I just know that Craig is way too drunk to drive the 40 miles back to Hondo. So I decide to drive.

Happily leaving the bar with my healthy $85 bar tab and Craig, not to be outdone, with his portly $200 bar tab, we start walking back to the truck. Now bear in mind, two drunks laughing, joking and generally making asses of themselves are walking the truck, which is parked on the side of the road next to the curb because the parking lot was full when we got there. Craig and I are walking, sometimes skipping, when all the sudden some slappass guy with his girlfriend are walking behind us…….with him making fun of our drunken ways and general light-weightedness. (The words pu$$y, yerafag and drunk motherfockers were overheard) I guess the guy was trying to impress his rather attractive girlfriend by mocking two drunkards walking in front of him. I’m sure we were good material.

Now this would have set Craig off in about a nanosecond but $200 of liquor tends to make one rather oblivious to outside distractions, but $85 of liquor doesn’t. I take note of his ways and remind myself that I hung up fighting back in college as the crappy real world of responsibility forced itself upon me. Damn things you get as tradeoffs for money.

We continue on our way with the jackass still behind us trying to impress his girl. No worries, right? Wellllll it just so happens ole jackass is parked directly behind us on the street. It’s funny how things fall right into place.

After trying to find the right key to a truck that is exactly like mine, I finally get it right and we begin to get in the truck. BUT DAMN! Jackass has to get in one last comment before the night ends. I guess his comments were working for his audience and she was quite impressed. I look over to Craig and say, “Hey Craig, what do you say we teach this guy a lesson?” To which he replies, “Lets do it!” So we walk back to his 4-runner, Explorer, S10 Jimmy (I dunno) and politely ask the guy to get out the truck so we can throw down, you know, since he had been talking shit for the past 5-10 minutes. Probably noticing that he was outnumbered by an $85 and $200 tab, he decided to stay in the truck with the window down all the while still talking shit.

Now anyone who has ever been in a fight just has to know that sitting in a car with the window down is the absolute worst place to be if you plan on defending yourself. I ask him again to get out, but no. SNAP! So through the window goes a surprisingly accurate right jab to the side of his eye. He quickly opens the door, not to get out, but to be in a better postion to talk more shit. Nothing I like better than proving to a girl that her shit talking boyfriend is just that, all talk.

Verbal barrages go on for a few more minutes when Craig wisely says we need to go. I still don’t know if he was bored with my antics or had to go to the bathroom. He walks back to the passenger side of his truck. I am a few feet behind him when I hear tires squeal.

Turning around as if I saw a pair of cowboy boots I just had to have, “Ohh shit!” I say to myself, or out loud, I can’t remember as this jackass is speeding toward me. This motherfucker is going to run me over. Good for me my tab wasn’t $200 or I might not have had the reflexes to attempt to jump out of the way. I manage to get out from directly in from of his truck, but I wasn’t fast enough. I get smoked by the corner (like where the headlights are) of his ride, throwing me a clean 5-10 feet in the air and promptly back down to earth/asphalt.

Now if you ever get hit by a car, plan on blacking out for a few seconds. Next thing I know, I’m pulling myself to my feet and I’m joining Craig who is attempting to chase this guy down in a futile attempt to drag him out of his truck and put him in the hospital.

We both run about 20 feet, get cramps in our sides and decide to go back to Craig’s truck. By this time the guy is long gone. There was no way we could have caught up with him. It is only now I realize I’m in some pain. I do a quick joint/broken limb checklist, check for blood, which was minimal, pick my broken watch off the street and jump into the truck for the drive home. Helluva end to a night, I tell you what!

This leads me back to the next morning and the moral of the story, Thanksgiving. I could not be more thankful to come away from this incident walking. If I would have gone under the tires it would have been a totally different story and I may have had to type this blog with a straw in my mouth.

So what did I get from this confrontation with a truck: 1. Two scrapped, very bruised and very sore elbows 2. One left knee the same 3. One slightly twisted right ankle 4. One severely jacked up right wrist (this has to be the worst of all. Guys, imagine losing all ability to effectively use your right hand and wrist……..….its painfull when you are in a position to use it as much as myself……….…to shake hands…......c'mon get your minds out of the gutter) and the final thing I walked away with was 5. One awesome story and a weekend of infamy from everyone else in Hondo. Life is grand.

Please don’t try this at home. I am a well trained drinker and generally in great shape, which allows me to get hit by cars and quickly bounce back to normal life.