Want to start and enjoy a bar fight

First of all, I'm of the view that most people misunderstand the purpose of having bars. They think bars are for socializing and meeting friends and new people over a few drinks. Personally, i appreciate that the true function of the bar is to provide adventure and excitement. Some people say it is for meeting people to have sex with, but we all know the odds of that happening in a bar. Or maybe it’s just me. Anyway, I want to go to a bar of my choice that serves real booze. No Courvosier. Beer and hard liquor. Analyse the bar, know its ins and outs, look at the habits of its clientele. What I'm looking for specifically are two things: The first is a quick escape route—I'll not enjoy the fight very much if I'm not guaranteed a way to escape unscathed.

The second thing I'm looking for is the curve. The curve is what sociologists call the graph they draw from a formula that factors in the number of people, how high they are and what time it is. My bet is in most said bars the curve peaks at one am. That is the best time to start fighting. After that people are so cut and their coordination is so bad I'll just be wasting my time trying to get them to punch anything. The fools will be so zonked they'll end up punching themselves, saying, “Take that. Ouch.”

So, at the opportune moment, I'll take a seat near the bartender.

Then scope out the crowd looking for a small guy who is very very cut. You know that particular level of drunkenness where guys be forgetting how different they are from Mike Tyson? With the curve calculated right, I should find about a dozen of them in the bar at that time. One of them in that corner there assuring his buddies that she is not the one who dumped him — he is the one who dumped her, and he is better off coz that bitch was cramping his style etc. He is talking to his friends but they are not paying any attention to him. Good good. All the better.

I'll go up to the pipsqueak and buy him a drink. As I inebriate him, I'll pretend to listen and commiserate with him when he drones on and on about how hard it is to live without her and how sorry he is and how he misses her. I'll let him get morose. Then I'll tell him that he is too much of a man to just lie there and let some other guy steal her away.

“What do you mean some other guy? She didn’t tell me there was some other guy. She said she was getting saved!”

“Oh, there definitely was some other guy. In fact, there he is.” I'll Point at random. Watch with glee as his grip tightens around his beer bottle as he snarls, “I’m going to KILL that son of a bitch!”

I wouldn't want to enjoy the ensuing fracas too much. Even when the entire bar has been drawn into the melee, I've got to stay safe. That is why I positioned myself near the bar. I'll dive over, and just keep peeping to check on the progress of my mischief. If the bartender is not down here with me, I'll sneak a few bottles down my jersey. That is the enjoying part.