Metaphorically speaking. Or so at least Fitbit tells me.

In other news, I’m sorry to report an especially violent outbreak of darts drama last night at Alley Cats. Thankfully I was only an observer, not a participant. Still, it put a damper on the evening’s festivities and made my winning of the tourney a rather hollow event.

Here’s what went down, with a little background to give it all some context. Now, I don’t know if I have any local readers of this blog but as a matter of discretion I’m going to change the names of the not so innocent those involved.

We’ll begin with the instigator, Keith, with whom I’ve had some drama in the past. My understanding is he was recently voted out as dart league president. The coup d’etat came as a shock to Keith and he was pretty bitter about it. So I think he showed up to the tourney spoiling for a confrontation. It didn’t help matters that the Wednesday tournament is played following the afternoon dart league, which meant Keith had been drinking a lot before arriving. He is one those Jekyll and Hyde type drunks. Nice at first and then transforming into an asshole.

Alright, so the trouble began when Keith and his partner were playing Bruce and his mate in the losers bracket. It just so happens that Bruce was voted in to be Keith’s replacement as dart league President. During the match Keith started grousing about the scorekeeper giving advice on what number to target. Bruce noted that the rule only applied to league, not the tournament, but Keith wasn’t having it (technically, Keith is correct scorekeepers should remain quiet during the game). Anyway, the argument escalated into a shouting match. And then in a fit of pique (not to mention unsportsmanlike conduct) Keith intentionally missed the potential winning dart (his partner being collateral damage I suppose). Bruce and Keith continued screaming at each other and it appeared violence might soon ensue.

Which is when Kathy, Bruce’s wife, intervened. And not in a good way. Now, there is also apparently some bad blood between Keith and Kathy as it is rumored that Kathy instigated the coup against Keith. So they began screaming at each other and then Kathy totally lost it, picking up a coke can and throwing it at Keith, hitting him in the mouth and drawing some blood. And then it was really on. Kathy picked up a motorcycle helmet intending to do some serious damage to Keith’s head, but fortunately someone grabbed her before she could do so.

When Iris, Keith’s girlfriend, saw the blood on his lip she went stark raving mad. Never seen anything like it. She was intent on doing some serious bodily harm on Kathy and it took several people to hold her back. The jostling and yelling continued on for several minutes until finally Bruce ushered Kathy out the door. Man, it was an ugly scene!

So the end result was that three teams wound up forfeiting in the tournament (which was a total fuckover of the dart partners of Kathy, Bruce, and Iris). And it made it an easy path to the championship for me and my partner, tainted victory though it was. Someone called the bar owner and she came after the excitement was over, talked to some people about what happened, and then told Keith and Iris they were not welcome back to play in the future.

Who says there is no excitement in my life? I did question myself later about not having tried to intervene. But I stand by my decision. First of all, I am just not going to engage in dart drama. Period. And I’m certainly not going to get involved with belligerent drunks who may be prone to violence. Too much can go wrong and I absolutely do not want to do anything that could lead me to an encounter with the police. I have no doubt that confinement in a Filipino jail cell would be a death penalty for me. So I’m just going to continue to mind my own business and try not to make any enemies here.

And that’s what’s cookin’. Well, that and these baby back ribs:

And that’s about enough adventure, don’t you think?