The Hat Stays On

Mark was sitting at the bar, having a drink, his baseball cap pulled down low over his eyes. He was just minding his business, trying to get a little drunk. Wasn't feeling very sociable. The woman to his right started to chat him up a little bit, but Mark really wasn't very interested. She was actually very annoying, like one of those kids that keeps poking an animal with a stick because they think it's funny. At least, until the animal snaps at them.

"Pull your hat up so I can see your eyes," she said to Mark. "Your hat's too low, I can't see your eyes. How can you see anything?"

"This is how I wear my hat."

"Take your hat off. It's too low," she persisted (poke, poke).

"I don't want to take my hat off. It's fine. I like wearing it like this. There's nothing to see anyway," Mark retorted, getting agitated.

"Oh, nothing to see? You don't wanna see me? You don't wanna look at me? What's your problem? Take your hat off."

"I don't really have any interest in looking at a whore right now," Mark explained.

"What? Did you call me a whore? What?"

Suddenly, the man seated to the right of the woman turned around to face Mark, asking "Did you just call my wife a whore?" Then he got up and approached Mark, murder in his eyes.

At this point, things started to become a little unhinged. The husband took a swing at Mark, who easily dodged it, and then everyone standing right there jumped on the guy who swung, creating a mini-riot at the bar, with the woman screaming her head off. The husband was really pissed off and was trying to get at Mark, who was standing off to the side drinking his beer, watching the events unfold.

The mass of bodies made its way to the door and spilled out onto the sidewalk, the husband at the bottom of the pile, yelling and flailing around, while his wife stood there screaming and trying to get someone to call the cops. Mark strolled over to the window next to the door and looked out, glad that he wasn't too drunk to dodge a fist. Then he walked back to his stool and sat down.

"Hey, why'd you call that guy a whore?" someone asked him.

"What are you talkin' about? That guy's wife wouldn't leave me alone and she kept telling me to take my hat off and she was pissing me off and wouldn't shut up."

"That guy's wife is a guy. He's a trannie. You didn't know that?"

Mark thought for a couple of seconds. "No, I didn't know he was a guy. I thought she was just some broad who wouldn't shut up. I didn't know his wife was a guy. What the hell? What the hell?"

Mark sat at the bar and finished his beer, wondering the whole time just what the fuck.