In the sick room, ten cents' worth of human understanding equals ten dollars' worth of medical science. ~Martin H. Fischer
One of the many perils of running your own pub/bar/nightclub is the more than occasional drunken brawl. Though i have 9 times out of 10 managed to stay away from the intoxicated argument and let my manager handle it. yesterday was when that 1 time came looking for me. Its 5 in the morning and we've successfully managed to be the only place in hyderabad open so late ( the dead-line is 11:30). My guests are happy, alcohol is flowing off the bar, the till is filling up faster than ever before and im generally in a super mood. Last song, announces Nash our brilliant DJ and its quiet time. Guests dragging themselves out slowly one by one. When all of a sudden a guy brushes against a girl which in 5 minutes escalates into a comunal argument. Well sensing that the argument would soon escalate into something a lot more violent, i decide to step in.......
So what started of as a peaceful Saturday night ended with two groups out for blood. Now it’s always best to let people decide how many times they want to stab kick punch beat each other outside your establishment. Its best not to let the other guests bear witness to the fight, also this creates bad publicity for the place. So we’re shutting the place down and im told that somebody’s taken a couple of skewers from our tandoor and run down to the fight, somebody’s going to die and im running down. My manager and I manage to settle the argument and they were both set to leave when a totally unrelated group decides to get into the middle of the action. They don’t know who we are so they start abusing us, and now we’re running after them trying to get them to stop. A bottle broken on your head is just how the movies show it. I would never imagine anybody going down, because in the movies all the countless times when I’d seen people passing out from a bang on the head, I’ve always laughed and said it’s not possible. But when that bottle hit my head, everything goes quiet, there’s just this constant ringing sound and I hit the pavement. I get up almost instantly to find my face and neck wet, I assume it’s the beer from the bottle and look up to see srinivas my manager running after him. I manage to pull myself up and start hitting the first person I see, my staff pull me aside and I look at my manager crying in one corner. Its only then do I realize the blood on my hands and im wondering why srinivas is covered in blood. Looking closer only then do I realize that in an attempt to flee, the assailant swung the bottle only to find his neck. It was a deep cut, and the blood just didn’t stop.
In all this we manage to find an auto that would take us there(considering we both stood there bleeding at 5 in the morning with 4 autos stop, only to zoom off looking at the amount of blood we’re covered in. so we reach the hospital and we’re rushed to the ER immediately. Srinivas needed to be rushed to the operating theater and I needed someone to clean the cuts on my head. “I’m sorry” says the doctor in charge, “Please pay 10000 Rs and only then will I admit you two in”. Wow, this was straight out of a Hindi movie, the wounded begging to be treated and the doctor, following some dub protocol refusing to do so. Well I started abusing them, cursing them and srinivas followed suit shouting. I told them “you’ll have the money in an hour, just treat us” They got the guards to throw us out. I can hardly walk, srinivas has almost passed out. We leave for the next hospital. Fortunate the next hospital we reach, rushes us in and starts treatment. They cleaned us up but said that we needed to operate on srinivas immediately. I reasoned and told them to start, id be back in half an hour with the money. Bless the doctor, he rushed him straight in. I ask our man Friday ramu to run to the restaurant and get the money. He’s back in an hour. Its almost 8 and I wobble out of the hospital on my way home. Want to get out of these blood stained clothes, have a shower and cup of coffee and pass out.
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