So there I was... Minding my own business, savoring every drop of my Guinness. When out of nowhere, it happened ... the only sober guy in the place starts talkin' politics. Damn, dude... you just killed the Bambi in my happy place. The bartender surveys the annoyed looks and tries to change the subject-- She tried in vain. Before we all knew it, there was a one-sided discussion on the parallels between religion and politics and how they are both evil entities that must be stopped.
All the smart people moved to other areas of the bar. I'm apparently not too bright-- I'm still not sure why I felt inclined to sit there and not follow the herd. Looking back I believe I was paralyzed because my glass of liquid love was nearly empty and I was wanting a refill. Nothing will get between me and my Guinness, not even a guy with a subscription to The Washington Examiner and a copy of Common Sense and The Bible in his back pockets.
Then something even worse happened. I'm not sure why it happened or from whence it came, but I felt inclined to say, "I don't agree with you." (Pause for effect, maintain eye contact) Oh boy, that opened the gates and released the Kracken. I felt like Acrisius of Argos ... I was about to be squished by a giant marble pillar, while being rolled around in tsunami-like waves.
I let the verbal lashing go on for 7 minutes and 42 seconds, as I finished my second beer. And like a lightning bolt it hit me, I looked up and said, "I've gotta pee." Genius. No one can argue with bodily functions! By the time I came back from the bathroom, the person had left and all was right with the world. Unfortunately, it was getting late and drinking/driving don't mix so, I had a glass of water and chatted with my bar family-- completely avoiding the topic of what had just happened and how they abandoned me--traitors, see if I share my chocolate bars and nylons with you.
So, the moral of the story boys & girls. Don't taunt the crazies! You will surely be annoyed or eaten by a mythical titan of unfathomable proportions.
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