It's a crazy place. Sorry to hear about that.
There were only two times in my life that I was truly afraid, and one was while attending Mardi Gras.
I went with five friends. And of course, sometime during the evening, a place to take a leak was needed. Already having drinks, myself and one other made our way to a street a couple blocks off the main street. There were still many people, so it was not as if we were in some lonely alley. So up comes about 12 teenagers. They walked up and asked my buddy if he had the time. I knew it was coming, but it was too late. As he looked down at his watch, he was cold cocked and was down for the count.
As the 12 kind of jogged away, I heard the one guy say "I told you mothers I could knock him out with one punch". With that, I'm not sure if it was my confidence, the alcohol, or stupidity, but I took my hurricane glass (from Pat O's of course) and smashed the end on the street and yelled out a line of 4 letter bombs that caught their attention. Very quickly I was surrounded. So here I was, with 12 guys, and I had a buddy that just staggered to his feet. I'm hearing things like "I'm going stick you", etc. I'm expecting to be stuck in the back at any moment.
At this point, there are a few people gathering. I'm waiting for anyone to help out. Nobody says anything. And what happens next can only be described as something out of a movie. A guy who looked exactly like Fred Sanford, being about 70 years old, comes running up the street, yelling "I told you punks to get off my street", and cursing up a storm. I'm not sure who he was, but I saw 12 pairs of very wide open eyes, turn and flee the scene in seconds.
Not sure who that guy was. I will always remember him.
Moments later as we rounded a corner, there stood three cops smoking cigs. A few moments after that comes my three buddies. I can only imagine what would of happened if they would of rounded the corner as we were surrounded. You see, of the five guys, I was the smallest. I stand 6 - 3, and was at my military max of around 210. The other guys in my group were "gym" hounds, and could of smacked me around for sure. I had never seen them back down, or lose any bar fight. They thrived on that stuff. Of course, the way it ended was probably good as no knives or guns were used. Just an old neighborhood grandpa that was taking no crap that night.