Bonaparte with Beer Muscles.

"Did he tell you about the time he got fucked up by a midget?"

I took a sip of my beer to center myself and make sure I'd heard my coworker correctly.

"No. I've seen him at the hall and know who he is, but I've never spoken to him."

Dave wet his lips with his draft and set the pint glass down on the oak. He turned his stool towards me and assumed the I'm About To Tell You A Really Good Story pose.

"He was partying at a bar in New Paltz, something with a P in it..."

"Yeah, the place where girls dance on tables and the pisser's a bathtub filled with ice that you wait in line for twenty minutes to use. I've been there a few times."

"Right, well he was pretty tanked up and went to the bar for a round of drinks. He was talking to the bartender respectfully, nothing off the wall. Some guy, a fuckin' midget!, comes up and sits down on the stool next to him and says to back off. He rubs his eyes to make sure he's not seeing things."

"You sure he wasn't high, too?"

"Dude, if he says it was a fuckin' midget, then it was a fuckin' midget."

"Fair enough."

"He tells the midget that he's obviously not hitting on his girlfriend behind the bar; the drinks he ordered are all girly drinks for the women he arrived with, Sexes on the Beach and faggot shit like that. Little Man doesn't want to hear any of that, though."

"A bit of the Napoleon Complex perhaps..."

"So the midget grabs his arm and takes a swing at him. He can't believe what's going down. Once he comes back to reality he grabs the midget and slams his head against the bar. The little bastard bounces off the bar and lands flat on the floor. Bouncers descend on our poor union brother from all angles and wrestle him to the ground. By this time the midget is on his feet again and running towards him. He kicks him in the head and he blacks out for a few seconds."

"Wait, so he got kicked in the head by a midget?"

"Yeah, man. His buddies pulled the bouncers off him and revived him. They slapped him in the face at first, but when that didn't work they poured a beer over his head. He had the midget square in his sights. He cocked his arm back to punch the little fucker and send him flying again for kicking him in the head while he was down, but he used his better judgment and ran out of the bar instead."

"Wow. That's about the best bar story I've ever heard."

"Tell me about it. Whenever that guy would try to bust my balls on the job after he told me that story I'd tell him I'd get the midget to beat him up again. He'll never live that down."

"I would imagine not. That's ridiculous. And I thought my life had some unfortunate twists..."

"That's the best part of being in a union, bro. You hear all of these absurd fuckin' stories. You can't make shit like this up."

"You're right. I'll tell it just how it was told to me instead."

"Huh?"

"Nevermind. Finish your beer, we gotta get back to work."