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You’ll find that in a lot of my memoirs, I’ll reference Webster Hall. That’s because I spent a lot of time there in my early 20s.
So there I was in Webster Hall, with my then girlfriend. We were watching a performance, and dancing, having a jolly old time together. By the way, it was clear that we were together.
Then out of nowhere, this big Indian guy tries to grab her hand and pull her from me. I instantly reacted, I shoved this guy back really hard! Then I came after him and said “Yo! What the freak is wrong with you man? Can’t you see that she’s with me? I’m holding her freaking hand! freak is wrong with you?”
He then states “I just wanted to cut in for a quick dance.” I squared off and told him “You can’t just touch her bro! I don’t know where you are from, or who the freak you think you are, but you can’t do that crap! Get the freak away from us before I rearranged your face.”
He saw I was serious, by then the bouncers started watching us, and we both knew what would come next if one of us took a swing, and he backed off. I continued dancing with my lady after that, and after a few minutes I calmed down. Yet, I was pissed off for quite awhile!
Did this guy really think that I was going to let him snatch my lady right from my arms? I don’t get it, do I really look that soft to people? Crazy freaking guy!
Good times, good times.