Captain's Den

I hate layovers in Dallas. The weather is too hot for me. I can only get so naked in public before someone will complain. But here I am again, stuck for a full day. Who cares why. I'm here so I may as well make the most of it. The airline has graciously put me up in a dive motel right outside the airport in a town called Euless. The place is old but it's clean. It's right beside a strip mall with a sandwich shop and a Chinese Buffet. So I guess I know what I'll be eating for the next 24 hours unless I can rent a car. That's the other thing I hate about Dallas. Their public transportation sucks and taxi service ain't much better. I suppose I could sign up for one of those rideshare programs like Uber or Lyft, but this is 1989 and no one has even thought those things up yet. So it's either walk or rent a car. I really hate Dallas.

At least I'm on the top floor of the motel, which by the way is also the second floor. Yeah, it's one of those kinds of places. I did get a king bed and I have a late checkout so that's a plus. The cable sucks too. I have a total of 5 channels unless I want to subscribe and pay $30 for their premium service. Yeah, that's $30 a day. Not happening. The only telephone in the room is one of those old white speakerphones with orange one-button dialing. You press one button to call the front desk. Another to call for security. Still, another to call for I'm not really sure, because no matter which button I press, the same person always answers. I open the curtains and scan the area looking for anything to spend my time on.

Lo and behold, a bar. The Captain's Den. It looks like a dive bar. The parking lot is in horrible shape and the building looks like it needs to be condemned. but even at 4 in the afternoon, it looks crowded. Good, I'll go there and have a couple of drinks. Heck, they may even have a menu too. I grabbed some cash from my wallet and put stuffed it in my front pocket and put my wallet in my other front pocket. I learned a long time ago to never pull your wallet out in a place like that and never keep all your money in one pocket. I walked over, went in, and found a booth against one of the walls. It was dark and it was dirty. There was Jimmy Buffet playing on the stereo and the bar had a sailing theme to it. Someone came over to me and I ordered my drink and asked if they had a menu. They did! Things were beginning to look up, I thought.

I was finishing my meal and my 3rd beer when I noticed the bar had considerably more people in it than when I first arrived. Before long, a woman approached me and asked if she could join me because there were no other empty seats. I nodded and she sat down. We exchanged small talk and out of nowhere, she told me she was available for the right price. I thought, just my luck, a prostitute. I guess I offended her. I never said a word. I smiled or frowned or gesticulated or something and kind of waved her off with a thank you but no thank you motion. She stood and left and I took that as my cue I should too. I settled my bill and stepped outside into the dark. It was a little cooler but it was still too damn hot for my liking. I never saw that first punch.

I fell hard. I was nearly unconscious. I was disoriented. The beers didn't help. I felt hands grab my collar and my belt and then I was being dragged from the front of the bar off to the side. I told myself whoever this was, if they intended to rob me, they might kill me if they got me out of sight. I wasn't going down without a fight. I couldn't regain my balance. They kept dragging me for several more yards. Then I heard her voice again. She was yelling for her friends to look for my room key. She was telling them I had a room nearby and that's probably where all my valuables were at. Me and my big mouth. Man, I really hate Dallas.

They started rifling through my pockets and that's when I realized there were only two of them and from what I could see, neither one of them was holding a weapon. Good! This was an old-fashioned strong-arm robbery. I went completely limp. I mean I went noodle limp. One of the men shouted, "Oh shit, he's dead." He had been squatted down and leaning over me. He shifted his weight back on his heels to stand and when he did, I sat up suddenly and punched him with everything thing I could muster. I caught him in the jaw and I think I rang his bell because I saw his eyes roll back and he fell over backward onto the pavement. I got to my feet and squared off against the second assailant. He was smaller than me. He must have fancied himself a boxer because he was dancing all around me, jabbing with his lead arm. I'm pretty sure he was the one who hit me initially too.

I'm not a boxer. In fact, I'm not very athletic. I'm just an average run-of-the-mill scrapper. I can give as good as I can take. And when it comes to fighting, I cheat because I want to win. Most boxers can't dance around a ring for more than a couple of minutes before they tire. It's the way they train. I waited and I watched. It didn't take that long. He started dropping his hands and when he did, I struck hard. I didn't care if he hit me as long as he didn't knock me out. I wanted to lay my hands on him. I wanted to grab him. If could grab him, we were both going to the mat. When I lunged, he backpedaled and jabbed at me multiple times. I know he hit me in my face a couple of times because I felt the sting and I could smell my blood running down my face. I kept lunging and grabbed his shirt, then his waist. Then I wrapped my arm around one of his arms. Then I got both of my legs around him and down we went. When we fell I didn't try a submission hold, I started pummeling him until he stopped moving. I felt several bones in his face break as I struck him repeatedly with my fists and elbows. I heard the girl screaming, pleading for me to stop before I killed him. So I did.

I stood and faced her. I expected others to come to their rescue at any second. We stood facing each other for what I thought was a long time but was most likely only a few minutes. I said, "The next time a guy tells you no, leave it at that okay." I checked my pockets to make sure I had everything and I walked back to my motel. I really hate Dallas, but it's beginning to grow on me.