Some guy was having a drink with another guy – but the arsehole of the two of them seemed to be under the impression that the other one wanted to go home with him – and that really wasn’t what it sounded like to me…
“Let go of my arm, dude.” His voice had gone up in volume and he sounded kind of annoyed as opposed to scared, but you know how you get a feeling sometimes?
That was it. I’d heard enough… I shot out of my seat and rounded the corner, “You heard him.” I snarled, “Let go of my friend’s arm.” I’d acted on instinct and well before I’d even had a good look at the aggressor. I wasn’t unduly worried – being built like a rugby player (I played at school but I really didn’t fancy ending up with cauliflower ears or a broken nose and missing teeth and gave it up before I left for university) I was pretty well built and strong enough to take on pretty much anyone – that said, I wasn’t a street-fighter kind of guy and I wouldn’t dream of carrying a knife – but I knew nothing of this guy... At this point I still hadn’t even looked at the guy being manhandled. As much as I knew, he might have been totally able to take care of himself for the notice I’d taken before wading in. It was a terrible weakness of mine...
I decided to check at that moment and I’m not gonna lie to you, my knees about buckled when he looked around at me with a slightly surprised look on his beautiful face. Holy shit, Date Guy was the most beautiful guy I’d ever laid eyes on – and since he was on a date with another guy, I was pretty confident that he must also be gay…
The bully decided it was time for a sharp exit as he looked up, and up again (six feet five – what can I say? I’m huge) and Date Guy smiled up at me, “Thanks.” He said, “I was handling it – but thanks anyway.”
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