Here’s the short story:
It was about midnight on clockwork when the bartender yelled to leave. Mike & Jack had a hangover, and I wasthe only one that was able to drive, to plug a seatbelt or even able to insert the key through keyhole. I grabbed my friends around me, to be sure that none of them would fall, and westarted crossing the bar. Maybe I was right, maybe not, but something is sure: they were at their lower state of consciousness, and it was my responsibility to take care of them. Thanks tomy parents’ advices, I am overcareful in life, even under alcohol effects. When we crossed the entrance of the bar to join the motorcar, someone with a 70’s hairdo in black sportswearleft from his hideaway, between a skyscraper and the carport, and pushed us on the showcase of the store next to the bar. Then he entered the small shop and started offending thebartender. Then, he took from his bag a tube that was about 40 inches long. I understand this man was about to murder. Since my knowledge in negotiation were next to zero, I ran in directionof the fool, hit him in the face to take the over on the situation, and put away his shotgun. The on-the-ground man tried to grapple, so I hit him twice to stop him. The bartender, witha reddish face, lowered his hands from head to call 911, and could scarcely pronounce a word to the policeman who took the communication. He then thanked me for rescuing him saying Iwas a hero, and asked me what he could offer me. I answered laughing “no reward has been decided for such situation, but a glass of freshwater could help me reminding me the way home”.