Fight Club

(This is completely seperate from my complaint, but it involves the same night/place.)
Things I learned at PB's last night:
When the YMCA song comes on, only God knows why first of all, don't turn around to the random boy behind you and do it, because hes then going to ask your name and if you want to swing dance. Then when when I said I haven't since I was in sixth grade, he happily offered to teach me. To that my friends, I say no.

Also, when there is a stage on top of another stage, I should never attempt to leap onto the second stage, because naturally only I would miss the jump all together and smash my leg into it and fall backwards on top of the lower stage, all while being sober.

Anyway, I am avery undowntown kind of girl; I don't like clubs and I figured thats the only thing you can do downtown. Well when everyone told me they were going to PB's last night, I was hesitant at first, but they promised it wouldn't be like the Cavern or Cabanas, so I said ok. But there was one thing that was exactly the same; idiotic boys.
It starts with an unintentional glare, an accidental bump or a misinterpreted choice of words, and of course sufficient alcohol in their systems and before you know it a string of "FUCK's, SHIT's, MAN's, WHAT's..." comes flowing ever so incoherently out of their mouth. Then this instinctual raising of the shoulders and sticking their chest out like a chicken occurs, as if to make them look stronger. Then their "boys" step in to hold eachother back, while the one who got bumped is screaming something ridiculous and the other guy, usually not as drunk is like Uh? or if he is as drunk is just as happy to join in the clucking chicken fest. Those big bucking chickens.
Last night, we were all standing outside on the porch of PB's and I missed how it began, but probably innocently, Fraty McFratster feathers get all ruffled and hes gotta show McFratter whose the man around here. I, of course, am standing close by and screaming things like, "FUCK, ya man, SHIT, get it", in hopes of egging them on. There's nothing more than I would love to see than two khaki clad, sperry sporting, striped oxford wearing frat boys go at it. But with all these pretentious fights, nothing ever happens, the "boys" pull him off, buy him a beer and find him a stupid girl to convince to sleep with him.
For once, I want to see one of these boys go at it. I want less talk and more action. And then, thats exactly what I got afterwards. As we were standing in Chico's waiting for our taxi, some dude gets a bottle broken on his head and shoved, I think?, into the glass window of a store...well atleast something did. Now thats a little more than I'd expect, because this dude was really bleeding. But props for them for actually fighting it out.
So first off...when you go out and get drunk boys, don't try to be this macho guy and fight the next guy whose elbow slightly brushes yours as hes walking past. And if you have to be this dumbass, don't start your first sentence out with, "What the? Man, fuck you. I'm gonna fuck your shit up!" Because you better believe im gonna run up right there and watch you, egg you on, make fun of you endlessly, and hope that you get the ever living shit beat out of you. Stupid frat boys. Their good for one thing...entertainment.