Showdown at the VFW

It’s 9:33 p.m. and I find myself at an interesting crossroads as I reach for my ice-cold freshly opened Heineken. I actually just left a freshly cracked Heineken over at my Wednesday night watering-hole. Staring at the cold beads of perspiration rolling down the green bottleneck I can’t stop replaying the events which unfolded earlier.

Every Wednesday evening after work I meet up with a few of my buddies from my old job and we consume one dollar bottled beers at the VFW. This is also ping pong night, we play as team’s double elimination and the victors can proclaim a dynasty, it’s pretty wild.

The night began to spiral out of control fairly early which rules out excessive consumption as a primary accelerant.

It all began as I waited to challenge the winners of the on-going match, I had barely released “the beast” (my $89.00 custom pong paddle) from its nylon case. I happen to glance up at the TV suspended up over the bar, which is usually muted.

Some rather gregarious lady that I couldn’t recognize was waiving the remote control at the TV, increasing the volume barely above the noisy buzz of the usual barfly’s.

Apparently, the channel was covering something about the President and when they cut over to Trump answering questions about the border crisis(I couldn’t discern much of what he was actually saying) this lady who was white emphatically shouts, “Fuck you Trump, you Goddam racist!”

Now, most of the women that show up on Wednesday night are usually half hillbilly and in their 50s. This lady, who was there with an off white friend of an unknown race, looked to be in her mid-thirties.

I usually show up on Wednesday night wearing my carefree persona, but this lady just happened to press every reactionary button on the motherboard.

A ferocious volley of liberal bullshit ricochetted throughout my throbbing cortex, poison-tipped leftist talking points aimed directly at the white hetero-male.

Instead of blasting off in a heated rage I decided to dispatch this stranger with a measured response. Now she would be kinda cute if she didn’t speak, but soon this fraction above average looking lady rapidly devolved into a nonsensical werewolf.

She was not the typical SJW reject portrayed so disgracefully on YouTube, this was far worse, she was one of the many rudderless young white females with zero thoughts of her own.

I was sure to keep cognizant not to appear to be bullying her as I peppered her with knowledge, the last thing that I needed was this crowd turning against me. In fact, she became such a loud obnoxious asshole that you could definitely hear their disapproval.

Normally I couldn’t help but feel pity for a youngish woman like this as she angrily bolted from the bar. However, she was so fucking obnoxious and disgusting that she only charged me up further.

This shocking melodrama wasn’t what got me sipping on a cold one down the road and replaying the last minutes of the night.

Just as her vapor trails were dispersing into the night two young black guys came strolling into the solid-white VFW, they were looking like Jay-Z’s back up dancers.

The uglier one says something to the effect of “Who dissed my bitch?”

I won’t even repeat the language that they used next and I can appreciate a good swear-laden rant.  After they got nowhere by trying to intimidate me they proceeded to address the VFW patrons. Minus the superlatives, this was the basis of what they said, “Yall President a pussy racist” and so on.

Maybe there were a few pansies pissing in their pants, but the two guys were out-numbered 30 to 2 and wisely exited once they had realized this fact. However, you could hear dust settling it was so quiet when they were soulfully regurgitating tired-out Trump insults.

I definitely felt like the lone man on the right, even when I intelligently squabbled with the two young punks, there wasn’t even a faint “Hell yeah!” or “Preach!”

A sudden wave of disappointment dissented upon me, everyone just began from where they left off as nothing happened. Maybe they were embarrassed, I don’t know.

I respectfully put “the Beast” back in the nylon case and said that I had enough excitement for a week-night and left.

So here I sit at the bar down the road, discreetly puffin’ on my vape and sipping the last half of my beer. The world has revealed it’s distasteful under-pinnings and Wednesday night may never be the same.

AV.

Visit https://avveritas.com Saving the West all by myself

Leave a Reply