The Night of the Giant at the White Lake Inn...

I really did not want the job, but it was too good of a deal to turn down. I was the head cook at the White Lake Inn and lived, ate and drank there for free - in exchange for working 7 and 12 hour shifts, from 11 a.m. to 11 p.m. that is. It was the late 70's and Disco was rocking the dance floor with a heavy beat... the drinking age had just been lowered to 19 and there was a lot of action at the White Lake Inn. For a while there was 7 nights a week live Rock & Roll, and when that was going on there was a line of at least 50 people standing out in front, waiting to get in until 1:30 a.m. During this period, once I closed the kitchen down at 11 p.m., I pitched in washing the never-ending flow of glasses that inundated the bar so the bar staff could concentrate on the clientele. One particularly raucous evening, I noticed a very large man sort of slumbering, leaning on one of the tables. He stood out because he was over 7-feet tall and dwarfed the chair he was in. About that time, a local lad who was trying to impress one of the barmaids, feigned pushing the pitcher of water she was carrying toward the sleeping giant, then tripped, and knocked the whole pitcher of water on to the giant. He instantly rose from the chair like a volcano exploding and snatched the startled lad by the throat, in a sort of back handed grab. He then backed towards the bar fighting off the entire staff with one hand while he strangled the malefactor. Meanwhile, I had been looking down at the glasses I was washing until a large mass smashed into the bar in front of me... as I looked up I could see the, now very, very sorry, lad ripping at the giants fingers as his face began to turn blue from lack of oxygen. It was apparent that something needed to happen soon or this guy was done for. Not really thinking first, I jumped up onto the bar, bent my knees and straightened my back, grabbed the giants arm with both hands and pulled straight up as hard as I could. The first part went well as I affected a release of the strangling man... however... and there is always a however when it comes to violence... the giant began a long powerful swing toward Tim, our own giant bouncer, before I could release my grip on his arm. Through the air went the giants arm with me attached as he clobbered our bouncer, and I clobbered our bouncer, fortunately Tim saw the shot(s) coming and turned his head to slip the blow(s), he then grabbed the giant and dragged him to the bar owner who was waiting at the door. After a couple rounds in the foyer out front, and the giant being dribbled a bit on Jackson Blvd, he was last seen zig-zagging off into the sunset with the bottom of his pants ripped out. I was treated like a hero by the bar crowd, but felt bad about punching the bouncer. He took it all in stride though and was not mad at me, "Just let me handle that stuff next time Rick," he said. "You bet Tim... be glad to," I responded.