My friend Dan gave me some sound advice the night before I left Los Angeles. He said, “No matter what you do, don’t be the pink bunny.” Well, the Pink Bunny was about to come out of the cage last night. (I boxed some guy this past Halloween, guess what my costume was).
We were at a discotech (Barsky) in Kiev last night and Mike got into a fight. It was about 4:00 AM and we were drunk (as fucksky) and waiting to leave. Now there are two versions to the story: what I saw and understood and what actually happened.
What I saw and understood. Please remember that I was very drunk, my attention was divided and I wasn't able to figure out the dynamics of the situation. We were in line at the coat check and a couple tried to cut in line. Mike told him something and they started to argue a little. Mike kept on telling him to go outside to settle it. I thought, "Fuck, Mike's drunk and started shit with the guy unnecessarily." I intervened by going in between them; first pushing the guy back and then pushing Mike away. I kept on saying "no problem" "no problem" to the couple and I kept on telling Mike, "Come on man. Not worth it. I got your back, but please don't do this to me. I don't have health insurance. Don't do this shit Mike, please. I got your back, ok, but let's just go home." I then went to the couple and introduced myself and kept on reassuring them that we didn't want any problems. We were waiting by the elevator and there was a small group of people near us. Remember, it was late, house music was pumping and my ignorance leads me to think that all Ukrainians look the same.
In retrospect, at the start of the argument, I remember hearing the guy utter "Moscow" to him and Mike pretty much told him he didn't give a shit where he was from." As we were waiting for the elevator Mike just decided he wasn't going to let the guy get away -- and he reminded me by constantly telling me he was going to punch him in the face.
He did. Then it spilled out from the lobby and it went towards the entrance of the dancefloor. I rushed over there, made sure that no one else was going to jump in as he threw the Ruskie onto the floor and kicked him in the chest. Shortly after, people came to break it up and we got forced into the elevator -- with three people following us into the elevator. From my understanding these guys were his friends, and I was constantly telling them "No trouble. We don't want any trouble." Mike wasn't worried at all (apparently I was worried enough for the both of us). In a span of 5 seconds, I summoned kung fu flicks, the Bourne Identity trilogy and even old breakdancing videos to see how we can quickly fuck all these guys up in such closed quarters. Elevator went down. We went out. We went home.
What really happened. We were in line and the guy not only cut in front of us, he pulled Mike by the neck towards him. And after the fight took place, the people that entered the elevator with us were actually bouncers, not the Ruskie's cronies. Pheww for that one, huh? So that's what actually happened. Mike kicked his ass and was definitely justified for doing so. Now, he’s my hero.
But really though, this language barrier can be real debilitating for me; I missed out on an opportunity to fuck up a dude with a mullet. I can always say that in hindsight, had I understood the situation, I would have loved to join in and at least stomp on the guy (for even trying to call out Moscow). This is OOOH ES AYE, beitschky.
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