I was going to talk about how I went to the Raleigh Party to pre-game for Felson’s last weekend, but I’m saving that for the ITB book. I don’t want commoners reading about all of the exclusive shit (underage drinking) that goes on there. Now that I’m an almost famous socialite and blackout alcoholic, I’ve begun to video record parts of my nights out so I can sit on the couch hungover the next day and watch what happened to me. Viewing these videos doesn’t make me remember any of the events that took place, but I’m at least able to watch what essentially amounts to a movie starring myself. Fortunately for you all, as I was filming myself outside of Felson’s last Saturday, I was able to capture an actual fight on camera. Now, I know you’re all thinking, “Yeah right, this is just gonna be another classic 2:15am shit-talking pushing match in the parking lot that resulted in at most a torn shirt sleeve and a lost contact lens.” You thought wrong. Before getting to the video, the scene from Saturday night needs to be set, as this was one of the strangest things that I’ve seen in a while.

The lights in the bar had come on and the bartenders had stopped serving everyone, except Forrest and I (we get served until 4:00am). It looked like things were going well for Forrest, as he was in the middle of trying to take some slut to late night with us. All of the sudden, Forrest tried to get my attention while I was filming myself about to take shots. He didn’t even need to tell me what had happened. The look on his face said it all. This girl had been talking shit about America, not about the bad America where Obama is trying to euthanize my grandparents under his healthcare plan, but the good America, the one with freedom, classism, and capitalism. Her nonstop ramblings about the cash for clunkers program finally set Forrest off. Obviously, we immediately questioned her patriotism and when she wasn’t convincing enough, we took action. We began to make a scene,(which is something I’m great at doing), knowing that we had to make everyone in the bar aware of the traitor walking amongst us. I was able to capture our efforts on video.

After the freedom-hating terrorist ran off crying to the bathroom, we headed for the door. What started as the usual drunken stumble around the parking lot looking for late night quickly became the scene of a heinous confrontation. As the bar let out at around 2:30am, two groups of people, dressed in their carmel pink, wicket yellow, chatham blue, newport navy, and chic cream Polos clashed in the parking lot of Felson’s. These rainbow warriors stopped at nothing to defend the honor that each of them (incorrectly) thought they held. As the fight broke out, Forrest and I stood staring in shock, wondering why a girl was beating the shit out of a bunch of guys. We had never seen anything like this, especially on the night of the Raleigh Party when we should have been honoring the debut of Raleigh girls by getting blackout and doing blow. The whole altercation made me feel like I was in a bizarro ITB. Clearly, I recognized the mix of pastel Polos rolling around on the pavement in front of me, which was coupled with the familiar sound of one guy telling the cop, “My Dad’s a lawyer, wait till he gets down here!” It seemed like a normal night, but I had never once seen any of these impostors at Felson’s and had certainly never passed them on my Saturday afternoon St. Mary’s St. to Lassiter Mill Rd. to White Oak Rd. scenic driving route.

Thinking that an ITBer may have been at the bottom of the pile, I considered jumping in to defend my brethren. However, as I looked around I realized everyone I knew had remained on the sidewalk. It wasn’t until one of the heathens on the ground yelled out something about “Ravenscroft” and “Cardinal Gibbons” that I realized these people were actually from rival OTB private schools. These OTBers were basically fighting amongst themselves for our entertainment. I stared in amazement, figuring this was the closest I’d ever get to watching one of those illegal dogfights. Never one to miss a business opportunity, I immediately began taking bets on which pastel would emerge the victor. Unfortunately, none of my friends or I carry cash, so the excitement of winning a quick grand or two off of “chatham blue” quickly dissipated. Moving to Plan B, I pulled out my camera phone and began to record some amazing footage of these OTBers gone wild. Now, I’m not saying it’s as big as the footage from MJ’s last rehearsal, but I do expect to get a lot of offers from the cable news networks and I’m certain TMZ will be very interested as well. While the video may resemble one of those “riots” in Iran or some other poor country that can’t afford democracy, I can assure you that it’s real and that I was just blackout and could barely hold my phone up to record this exclusive footage.

The most shocking part of this video, aside from the sucker punch, mass chaos, and OTBers in Cameron Village, was when the words, “Ya’ll will never be allowed at Felson’s again!” were yelled out by one of the owners. Hearing this now really makes me think twice about getting in fights at Felson’s. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll still run my mouth and instigate the shit out of some people, but I need to make sure Forrest and I don’t get in any trouble with the cops. I’d obviously pay them off, but it would just make Felson’s look bad if they allowed me back in week after week after week even though I’ve instigated 90% of the altercations that occur there.

As for the fight itself, I’m not exactly sure what started it, what it was over, or who won. According to the footage, there was some sort of “7-year old Ravenscroft Gibbons fight” that must have still been brewing. I didn’t know private schools disliked each other, I just assumed everyone else disliked them. Around 4:00am, as Forrest was finishing up the statement he was drunkenly giving to the cops, the girl who was in the middle of the fight from the beginning started running her mouth again. The cop told her to be quiet and, in typical commoner fashion, she kept talking. After failing to comply once again, the cop picked her up from her seat on the curb, handcuffed her, and put her in the back of the police car. We didn’t think this would be a problem for her since she was with the guy who yelled out about how his Dad was a lawyer. Unfortunately, it turns out his Dad is actually just a paralegal for the Law Offices of James Scott Farrin, which doesn’t carry much weight in Cameron Village. Realizing that we’d pretty much seen all the action, Forrest and I yelled a bunch of shit at the OTBers, knowing they wouldn’t do anything with the cops still present. Still feeling patriotic, we embarked on a mission to raid Harris Teeter for late night food before going home. If you have any more details on the fight, feel free to leave them in the comments section.

The next day, as I laid on the couch watching all the video footage I had taken, I realized that we might have a bit of a problem on our hands. Obviously, fights between ITBers are fine. For example, arguing about which of you gets to take the underage girl home or who’s turn it is to get a DUI are both situations that deserve a good shoving match and stare down before leaving the parking lot for late night. But we can’t let it get to the point where OTBers show up every weekend with their concealed weapons looking for a fight. Before we know it Cameron Village is going to resemble, dare I say it, Fayetteville, and that’s the last thing we need happening around here. If things get worse, I’m going to have to call in a private security firm or get the city to send more cops out to patrol Cameron Village, or wherever it is I go out that night. I should probably get a bodyguard now that I think about it… I’ll be out of town this weekend, so I’m counting on Forrest to make sure these kids don’t show up at Felson’s again.