Here’s something you probably don’t know about me. I was once in a fight outside the Taco Bell on University near the intersection of University, Camp Bowie, and 7th Street. I’m not talking about a yelling, screaming, hair pulling girl fight, but a knock down, fisticuff, call the cops fight fight between three of us and six of them.
Back when I was a senior in high school the drinking age was 18. So on Friday and Saturday nights if we didn’t have anything better to do, my best friend Gerda and I would go “clubbing”. We had our regular hangouts, the name of which have all escaped me. One was behind the Dunkin Donuts (now gone) on Camp Bowie and Horne. A couple of others were next to each other, behind what is now Tom Thumb on University. One bar was actually 3 bars in one. A disco, rock & roll, and country. I wish I could remember the name, but I can’t remember. The dance floor in the disco part of the club was like the dance floor in Saturday Night Fever. We were young, didn’t have good sense, and we always had a ton of fun!
Well one Saturday night we talked Gerda’s oldest sister Marta into going out with us. She worked most Saturday nights and didn’t get out like we did. So off we went on our regular rounds. It was a long night and we had a good time. Late that night on our way home was when the trouble started. We weren’t looking for trouble, but it found us that night.
It was a nice night, so we were driving down Camp Bowie with our windows down. Just driving along, minding our own business. When we stopped at one light a car pulls up next to us and started yelling racial slurs at us. I guess because Marta and Gerda are Hispanic, I don’t know. Looking back I guess they were just a car full of drunks with nothing better to do. So, I guess from having a little alcohol ourselves we started yelling back at them and getting out of our car. They get our of their car and come at us, 3 men and 3 girls.
Now I had never been in a confrontation like this and to be honest was just a little bit scared. So I pull out my little bottle of pepper spray and sprayed it at the man coming at us. They jumped back in their car and went straight thru the red light. We turned left at the light and pulled into Taco Bell to pull ourselves together. The next thing I knew this carload of people pulled into next to us. Now I can recognize trouble when I see it and I saw BIG TROUBLE. These guys were ready to kick our behinds as much as the girls in that car were.
I ran into the Taco Bell and asked them to call the police. I knew we didn’t stand a chance against the six of them. On my way back out one of the girls from that car was coming in (to get me I guess). She asked me “Are you with them?”, “No” I said and kept on walking back out toward Marta and Gerda. If I’m going to get my butt kicked I want it to be where I can get a little backup.
Once I got back out to the car the fight was already on like Donkey Kong. Some girl had either Marta or Gerda one by the hair. So I grabbed that girl by the hair and was pulling so hard I had clumps of hair in my hand. I was hit in the jaw and sent flying across the hood of the car by one of the guys. Then someone grabbed me from behind and had my head under their arm. I saw their hand and bit down on their finger until I could feel my teeth close together on their finger. I think I was actually hit in the face with a fist a couple of time. But I gave just as good as I got I think.
There were people sitting on their cars, watching the fight, and yelling “Hit her again!” I don’t know which side they were rooting for. Finally the cops showed up. They broke us up into groups, trying to figure out what happened. I guess they figured it was just a drunken brawl and sent each car in separate directions down University Street.
One the way home we were all quiet. Finally Marta said to us “I’m not going with yall anywhere anymore.” We all started laughing.
When I got home my Dad was still up. He took one look at me and ask what happened. When I told him the details I can honestly say I had never seen him so proud. He took care of my cuts, scrapes, and bruises that night. As odd as it sounds, it was a bonding moment between father and daughter.
DANG! And you LOOK so innocent now. Looks deceive. Wasn’t the club behind the DD called The Wall?
It was certainly a different time back then. A fight was generally fists not like today when you never know if they will pull out a knife or gun when you tick someone off. And they sent you driving in opposite directions thinking it was a drunken brawl. Today you would have DWI and been cooling your heels in the jail cell. I can remember my mom having a black eye one day after a night on the town (in the 70s) and someone asked her who gave her the black eye to which she replied “Gave me hell! I earned this black eye!”