How I lost my tooth
or
Don't call a woman a cow
"Good idea, just ignore him"
I look at my brother, thinking "what does he mean?" Then I look back at the wide guy we are walking by. I haven't seen him before.
"Was that him?" - Yeah, it was him. The guy who knocked out my tooth.
A couple of months ago, I was down at the pub, drunk, stoned, the works. I have no idea why (I guess I was just a real fucking idiot), but I was thinking out loud about this girl who walked by me and said "Man, what a cow."
She turns around and says, "You better take care!" I go "but, I mean, what a phat car!" Or something equally inane. She doesn't buy it.
The week after, I go to the pub again (I know, I should have kept low profile). Of course, the first thing that happens when I walk in the door, is that I get shoved at a table and punched in the mouth. I look around, not knowing what is going on. Then my tongue realizes that my tooth is missing.
On the way home, I'm trying to reconstruct my assailant's face. I can't. I assume he must be the boyfriend of the aforementioned girl. I don't report it - this would equal a death-sentence in my town.
The next day, I go and get a temporary filling. It didn't hurt much, but it sure was a hassle. So, fellow noders, don't call a woman a cow.