if you will indulge me, I present to you: “Caller and Other Guy: A hero’s journey.”
It started as a normal night out at the bar. Caller, the native, was showing his visiting relative, Other Guy, a good time out on the town. The had a fancy dinner out and was following it up with drinks and debauchery at a local nightclub that is reminiscent of a Jimmy Buffet wet dream. As most guys go, once we have a few to relax we tend to seek “company.” Especially if we’re visiting a new city. It helps if you’re single. If you’re not single, like me, you just try to see how many cities or countries you can masturbate in. But as their night progressed they caught the attention of two local women and struck up a conversation. A friendly conversation led to some light flirting, which led to a jovial game of pool. The boys bought them a few drinks and they split up into teams to play a few more rounds of pool and some darts. It seemed like things were going well and they might end off the night coupled up. I doubt anyone was actually seeking a relationship, maybe just a random hook-up from time to time. Ah, to be young again.
Once the evening started winding to a close and last call was fast approaching the boys realized that they must act quickly to seal the deal. Caller enacted the slow, safe play and asked the young blonde he was courting to come back to his place with him. She became sheepish and playfully declined. Her refusal had a purpose behind it. Not because of anything Caller did wrong, but because there was a piece on the Chessboard that they had yet to play. Instead, it lay back waiting, hoping that the situation doesn’t arise where it needs to be discovered. Other Guy would prove to be significantly bolder. He grabbed the bobbed-cut brunette that he had his sights set on and pulled her against him; planting a sloppy, drunken kiss on her pillowy red lips. It was brazen, daring even. Surely it couldn’t fail. Until a shout came from across the crowded room. “What the fuck!!”
Other Guy parted his grasp on his would-be partner, looking up to see what the commotion was. Caller also wheeled around, feeling as if some impending doom was about to befall someone. They looked up to find a large, bald biker, clad in leather and chains like a bad bondage film. The behemoth Moses was parting the sea of patrons and was making a beeline straight towards Other Guy. The blonde at Caller’s side looked disheveled and moved her Bishop to check their King. “We’re married.” Caller pushed past a few chairs and a table to get to his kinsman, knowing that they may be forced to defend themselves. The brunette laid the same unfortunate news onto Other Guy. “That’s my husband.” Other Guy’s face sank and became flush. “But if he weren’t here, I would have totally fucked you.” Okay, so we can agree that she wasn’t helping. The great colossus reached Other Guy, pushing him hard in the chest and knocking him back. An equally large Titan came between them to hold the beast back. Other Guy and his brave companion, Caller, looked at each other with equal fear in their eyes and they both new, subconsciously, what needed to be done. They ran.
Caller ran towards the rear entrance and tried to explain the situation to a bouncer, hoping he could overtake the situation and cool things down. Other Guy got distracted and tried to order another drink while the husband’s friends were trying to settle him down. The large man was still shouting and waving his arms in protest, his voice audible over the crowd and Beach Boys music. When Caller entered the hall again, catching the attention of Other Guy and his newly refreshed Whiskey and Soda, they both looked towards the gargantuan obstacle that was destined to ruin their night, but he had disappeared. The biker and his friends had left the bar to the joy of our heroes. But, to their chagrin, their potential mates were not to be found as well. The boys strolled around the bar, hoping they could make a connection with someone else, possibly some females who had seen the scenario play out and would like to discuss their misfortune over cocktails; possibly at Caller’s place.
They had just begun to smile and mingle with the crowd. Caller sensed that the night was doomed and requested a ride home through his phone that would inevitably reach the real hero of this story. Other Guy had begun a victory walk towards the Men’s room when a mousy, feminine voice caught his attention. He turned to see a young man in Docker’s pointing towards the windows. “He’s coming back.” Other Guy looked towards Caller, hoping he would look up. When their gazes met, Other Guy nodded towards the window so that Caller could see the spectacle that was coming towards them. Biker was walking back towards the bar flanked by two mounds of flesh like guard dogs. In his hand, he gripped a handle of cold steel and fiery death. I know I could have just said he had a pistol, but I’m being an over-dramatic cunt. Caller and Other Guy bolted towards the rear entrance, knocking down furniture and people like the Best Buy doors just opened on Black Friday.
A block, then two under their feet and they turned back towards the bar. They could see a visage of the biker, being blocked by two bouncers; the pistol most likely concealed. They darted again, passing through alleys and going full-on Parkour over dumpsters and Moped Blow-Jobs. As they stopped to catch their breath, Caller’s telephonic device buzzed, informing him that his ride has arrived. Caller earned his title of “Caller” and called the call that earned him the title of “Caller.” Their chariot arrived with a screech of rubber and a roar of anger. The distinct smell of burning rice emanated from all 142 horses attached to it. The boy’s dove in the rear of the chariot as our brave Knight slaps the reigns. Together, they gallantly flee the scene.