David vs Goliat

Sometimes the small victories can give the greatest pleasure, Especially when the odds are against you. Or when your adversary represents a classically unjust and usually unbeatable institution like doormen, as was the case this Tuesday night. We were 5 boys, going to the quite tacky Anglo-Saxon pub with Australian origin in which you usually find both guys and girls who has drunken themselves to caveman level, and the doorman takes one glimpse at one of my friends, let’s call him English Dave, and says that he is too drunk to get in. This was of course just an excuse to stop us from entering since they are trying to manage the boy/girl ratio. I asked him though to take another look at Dave, and perhaps re-evaluate his state. But no, he is too drunk. Dave tries to talk to him as well but he is not open for arguments. So we move 20 meters down the road, and I put my glasses and my shirt on Dave, and suggests that he should try to enter alone, and the stupid muscle mountain doesn’t recognize him in this elaborate disguise. Once inside we were cracking up about this smooth outmanoeuvring, and we ended up having a great time. Small victories..

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