Sunday morning fight club

A wise man once said, "Nobody ever wins a fight."

Okay, so it was Patrick Swayze in Road House, but let's face it, fights in real-life don't play out like this example of Swayze taking out the trash.

Last night, while at work, two guys walked into the hotel lobby, one of them with some pretty nifty bruises on his face.

He tells us that he and his friend got jumped, could we call the cops?

So, I go outside and there's a good, oh, I dunno, 25 people getting real mad at these two guys. There I am in the middle of it, on the horn with the cops, trying to keep words from coming to blows.

Eventually (and thankfully) the group made their way back into their hotel rooms, and the two guys were sitting on the sidewalk waiting for the police.

It being quarter to 3 in the morning, the local cops don't have a lot else going on, so about seven of them show up.

Turns out that the group of 25 people were a family coming back from a wedding reception, the two drunk guys ran their mouths about something or another, and got their asses beat for their trouble.

I didn't know--I really didn't care--so all I was interested in was keeping blood off the sidewalk in front of the hotel. Some drunk running his mouth asking for an eye jammy notwithstanding, I don't need that hassle while I'm at work.

Either way. The two guys were clearly in the wrong, no?

But I gotta say, when I'm standing there trying to keep the two big guys from swinging on the skinny drunk dudes, I can't really find a "good guy" or a "bad guy" in the equation.

And when the shrill old white lady mother figure's telling her daughter off for getting in the way ("Mom. Mom. Mom, calm down!") while she's calling the two instigators homeless white trash, well...

It's like Dalton says. Nobody wins a fight. And by and large, the two guys that started it didn't come off looking any worse than the large family in nice clothes with money to burn.