bud green said:
I'd like to hear the Crazy Indian story Jay if you don't mind telling it.
Hell, I'd like to hear the biker stories too.
The Hungry Stick pool hall in San Diego used to be famous for its biker brawls. My friend grew up around the corner from there and said when he was a kid he'd go there and watch bikers hit each other with chains, cues, bottles on Fri or Sat nights.
Am I going to hell for laughing about a guy punching a nun? That Batman line killed me.
OK Bud. This young buck indian kid starts coming in my poolroom and plays a little pool by himself. He's probably maybe 20 or 21, about 5'10" and a thick 210 pounds. He has a bad attitude and everyone just leaves him alone.
One day he goes to the restroom and my handyman Randy is cleaning up in there. They have a dispute about using the urinal (Randy is cleaning them) and the big injun hauls off and hits Randy smack in the nose. Randy staggers out with his nose bleeding and comes up front to the counter. I see him and ask him what happened. He points at the indian coming out of the restroom and says he hit him. So I go up to the indian and ask him why he hit him. He says who the f--- are you and I tell him I'm the owner. I tell him if he wants to fight someone he can pick on me (dumb!).
Next thing I know I get coldcocked too and it's lights out. I'm on the floor and all I see is stars. That was the hardest I've ever been hit. Fortunately, the indian just strolls out the front door and leaves. After a while I recover, and figure the indian will never come back. The word gets around about the indian who whacked Jay and everyone is talking about it at the poolroom. All the kids liked me and felt bad about it, but no one was about to mess with this ornery indian. Except for one kid named Gary Brown. He was about the same size as the indian and considered the toughest kid in Bakersfield. Gary was 18 at the time and later became a minister.
A few nights later, lo and behold, the indian comes strolling thru the doors like nothing ever happened. He saunters over to the counter, takes a seat and asks the girl for a coke. I'm amazed, but a little scared too. I'm thinking I may go get my .25 in case he wants a repeat performance. Before I can do anything, Gary Brown walks up to the indian and tells him to get lost. The indian gets up and takes a punch at Gary that he deflects. And now they are battling, all over the poolroom. On the floor, over tables and into the walls. I mean really fighting. No way to break this up and I don't even try.
This battle goes on for several minutes. I have never seen two men fight like this before or since. I mean really going at it, trying to kill each other. It looked like a fight from a movie, but it was real. Finally Gary gets the indian down on the floor in the back of the poolroom. It is where the video games were, and the floor is linoleum over concrete. Very hard. He grabs the indian by the hair on both sides of his head, and starts banging his head on the floor. HARD! Every time he bangs his head there is a loud thump. He must have done this 20 times, before we pulled him off.
Gary gets up and the indian is laying there in a pool of blood, motionless. I'm sure he's dead. No one makes a move to help him. We just leave him there. I'm not sure what to do, so I do nothing for a while. Gary is a mess too and he goes into the restroom to clean up. After a few minutes, the indian starts to moan. Unbelievably, after about ten minutes he gets to his feet and stumbles out of the poolroom.
Now the clincher. About two or three weeks later, this dumb indian comes in again one afternoon. And he sits down at the counter, kinda quiet like. I walk over and he looks at me and asks "Does that guy come in here very often?" I hadn't seen Gary since the night of the fight, but I look at the indian and tell him "He comes in all the time.". The indian gets up and walks out, never to return.
