This week one of America's most infamous cowboys passed away. For those of us lucky "oldsters" we remember fondly James Arness' character of the gun slinging Marshall Dillon on Gunsmoke.
Interestingly enough,
"He Said" and I decided we would tell our own story of the Wild Wild West days before our beloved Marshall Dillon passed away this week.
Well it wasn't EXACTLY like the Wild Wild West, but it did involve two drunk idiots flinging themselves through the bar's swinging doors and an even wilder tale. All I can tell you was at least there wasn't a duel at the end of the night.
I was twenty years old, so I was too young in the state of Indiana to even enter a bar. For reasons I don't remember, my sister, her husband, my brother Rumbles and his not-quite-yet first wife decided to go to his favorite place to hang out. It was called the Benchmark Inn, a local bar. Back in those days, Rumbles never let a bar seat get lonely at the Benchmark. Four of us stayed in the family area, while Rumbles went through the swinging bar doors (YES, they really were swinging bar doors) and sat down next one of his favorite drinking buddies we called Wormy. Rumbles and Wormy were already "well oiled" you might say, a state of intoxication (or something worse) was never far away.
I think I recall that we ordered dinner while sitting out in the family room. Suddenly there was some loud ruckus coming from the bar area. It wasn't difficult back then to do simple math. Just as 1 + 1 always equaled 2, Rumbles + Bar always equaled Ruckus.
Of course the four of us knew immediately that Rumbles was getting himself into a big bar fight. I'm sure it certainly wasn't his first, but it was the first where I was ever in close proximity. All of us went running toward the bar doors when they flung open and in true Wild West fashion, out came two drunks fighting. To be honest, I wouldn't EXACTLY say it was a fight, since that would imply fists. They were more accurately performing very aggressive "hugging". (Who wants to bet Rumbles takes more offense to THAT term than any other in the story?) Cue the sound of crickets here Mark.
As the two idiots swung through the doors, they were followed by the other bar sitters, all just standing by as the dingbats hugged there way to the floor. No one, NO ONE was even attempting to break up the fight.
Our group was yelling for them to stop. As was custom for her, my sister decided to act. She acted like she always did in a family emergency. She PANICKED. Screaming like a banshee.
In the meantime, I was po'd the other drunk bar men did not even attempt to break up the fight, which by then had become a lovefest of two straight men rolling around on the floor together.
Since no one was accomplishing anything, I grabbed my brother's pant leg and began to PULL. Trying to get them separated. I probably weighed all of 95 pounds back then, but I wasn't going to sit back and do nothing.
After a few good yanks on his pants, I had pulled them hard enough. NO, I did not manage to pull his pants OFF although that would have probably made for a better story. I had pulled them hard enough to dislodge a freakin' GUN he had stuffed in his waistband.
Sorry Mom, but there can just be no way that this idiot brother and I share a common set of biological parents. OH WAIT, that's right. I forgot about Dad's propensity to behave this way when he was young. Nevermind.
With seeing the gun bouncing along the floor, I suddenly decided I would let my brother explore his sexual preferences with the man on the floor. Not that there's anything wrong with that.
I let go of his pant leg, grabbed up the gun and moved away from the lover's quarrel.
I was hiding the gun in my purse so I didn't see how the lovefest finally broke up. While my back was turned, the fighting stopped. It could have stopped because my screaming panicked sister started screaming, "I'll call the cops, I'll call the cops, I'LL CALL THE COPS".
The next thing I remember is that Miss Calm continues to scream and starts to hyperventilate. She collapses in the middle of the family dining area floor while everyone now stands around her. Rumbles was standing next to me and I remember grabbing his arm and pointing at our now-feral sister still screaming away and I said to him, " THIS is what you are doing to your family." For some strange reason I don't think he liked that too much.
He went storming off and I knelt down by my sister. Some strange guy was kneeling next to me and I tapped him on the shoulder and asked him to find me a paper bag.
In the meantime, my brother-in-law is doing what he does in a family crisis. He was pretty much ignoring the whole event. Although he did manage to inject a bit of humor. While his wife lay screaming on the floor, he stands there, draws back his fist and says, "Get up and I'll hit you again." as if he had slugged her a good one.
Yes, I AM the only normal one in the family. Thanks for asking.
When everything had calmed down, we left the Benchmark as they were closing the doors. I left with my sister and brother-in-law and we agreed that we would keep this entire story to ourselves, not tell Mom or Dad so they would not worry. I hid the gun far far back in my bedroom closet.
Rumbles, not realizing we had NOT ratted him out answered a simple, innocent question from our Mom a few days later and ratted himself out, telling her the whole story because he thought she already knew. I figure THAT was the best revenge for his stupidity.
Whenever we talked about the incident with the gun, Rumbles stupidly claims, "I would have never used it." And I add, "I believe you, BUT you did not know if the other guy would have!!!!"
Thank Sweet Jesus that Rumbles had a religious conversion on that same bar stool a few short years later when he had just pulled another stupid stunt which he thought for sure was going to land him in jail. He said of that incident that when he sat on that bar stool he prayed, "Jesus, if you get me out of this situation, you'll never have to ever get me out of another one." I watched my brother that next day outside after the second incident, working on his bike and listening to GOSPEL music. He didn't touch a drop for years after that.
And there have been no swinging bar doors with my brother in the middle of a bar fight since.
Well, none that I'm aware of anyway.
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