tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-47637393971387387712011-11-27T16:52:12.641-08:00Nathan Blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05376422866708640145noreply@blogger.comBlogger21100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763739397138738771.post-14594959003645741622009-06-06T02:54:00.000-07:002009-06-06T03:00:19.415-07:00Tonight there was a fight at the bar. Or rather near the bar. I'm standing there hanging out and see a scuffle start in the middle of the nearest cross street. Two guys were brawling pretty hard core and there was a crowd of people trying to pull them apart. One of they guys in a white t-shirt and red shorts was having none of it. If his original opponent wasn't close enough he just swung on whoever was closest. He didn't make many friends that night.<div><br /></div><div>I called the cops, who got there too late to catch any of the action. The did however catch the guy with no friends. I think the line "look for the guy in the white t-shirt that is covered in blood" helped.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4763739397138738771-1459495900364574162?l=thebarlog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Nathan Blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05376422866708640145noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4763739397138738771.post-68903776197943562402009-06-05T21:46:00.000-07:002009-06-06T03:00:39.283-07:00This is a simple blog to track the night to night nonsense that goes on in the bar where I work.<br /><br />The early "line of the night" for tonight was:<br /><br />Girl: I'm looking for my friends... Have you seen a blond, about yeah tall.<br />Me: Yeah, three or four of them.<br />Girl: I just need one.<br />Me: Yeah, me too, I guess.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4763739397138738771-6890377619794356240?l=thebarlog.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Nathan Blackhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05376422866708640145noreply@blogger.com