Last summer, I heard about a fight at a country bar between Brooke Wilde, a hot barrel-racing cowgirl, and some high school girls. Brooke was a hot Blonde who worked at a strip club and had little fear, though she was only 5'5" and 118 pounds -- mere fodder for even the average-sized high school girl today. And believe me, as a substitute teacher and former restaurant manager and bouncer, I know the high school girls today are brutal and don't take shit from anyone, especially some tight-jeaned barrel racer with an attitude. Let's get right to the action as Brooke and her friend Brandy, two chicks in their thirties, arrive at the bar, clad in their tight blue jeans, white cowboy hats and boots. As always, the girls involved in the fight are at least eighteen.
It was Teen Night at Kurt’s Bar & Grill, which meant some of the high school girls who'd been wanting to fight Brooke would likely be there. She hoped to run into that head cheerleader Allison girl because she really wanted to give her a piece of her mind. The girl had pushed her against the wall the other night when she tried to leave the fast food restarant.
Brooke called Brandy and asked her to go to the bar with her.
“I don’t know, Brooke. It’s not a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“Because it might not end well.”
“Maybe not for Allison.”
Brandy sighed over her cell phone. “We’re going to be outnumbered there. Besides the girl shoved you against the wall at Taco Bell the other day."
"So."
"Well, she would've kicked your ass if you hadn't backed down."
"She surprised me, that's all. She's vicious -- and just some cocky head cheerleader who needs to get her ass kicked."
"Like I said, we'll be outnumbered there," said Brandy.
"So what? Like I said, I’m not afraid of a bunch of high school girls.” Brooke finished the last bite of her baked potato, which she’d been eating with some chicken and green beans. “Come on, Brandy. What do you say?”
“Okay, I’ll go.”
“That’s my girl.”
“But promise me you won’t start anything.”
“I won’t. I just want to check things out.”
Brooke finished eating, brushed her teeth and slipped into her favorite pair of dark Levi's. She then put on a blue, pink and white blouse and watched a few episodes of Friends. At eight-twenty she left her apartment, hopped into her Camaro and headed over to Brandy’s apartment.
“I hope we’re not the only chicks in our thirties at the bar,” said Brandy. “People are going to start thinking we’re into young guys.”
“The place always has a mixed crowd,” said Brooke, “but there will be a lot of high school kids there.”
“No doubt.”
The two women arrived at Kurt’s Bar & Grill at 8:55 p.m. Brooke parked on the east end of the lot in front.
Brooke and Brandy got a few stares as they walked into the place. Most were from prurient and admiring young guys who were probably staring at her ass, which was wrapped in the tightest denim she owned.
“This place is really hopping,” said Brooke, as she and Brandy approached the center of the nightclub. She glanced toward the main bar. That’s where she spotted Erika Weston, a thirty-two-year-old bartender who used to work at Rodeo Cowgirl’s.
“Erika,” shouted Brooke, as she approached the bar. She waved her hand at her.
Erika looked up and waved. She then raised her index finger, indicating she needed a minute. She finished pouring a couple soft drinks for some high school kids, then walked over to Brooke.
“I didn’t know you worked here,” said Brooke, as she hugged Erika. Brandy then hugged her.
“I just started a couple weeks ago,” said Erika. “I was working at a place down on Sycamore before this.”
“How have you been?”
“Good. How about yourself?”
“Terrific. Brandy and I own a beauty supply company, but we also dance a few nights per week at Rodeo Cowgirls.”
“That’s great,” said Erika. “I had a lot of fun at that place. Made a lot of money, too.”
“We all did last year and the year before. But then the ownership changed and Brandy and I were transferred to the Munroe location.”
“That’s right, Rodeo Cowgirls has a Munroe location now.”
“Yeah,” said Brooke. “But the crowds aren’t near what they were in Columbus. The Rodeo Cowgirls down there is busy every night. We just have a few crowded nights at the Munroe location.”
“Well, it was great seeing you, Brooke. You, too, Brandy. But I’ve got to get back to work. My boss is giving me the stink eye as we speak.”
“That’s never good,” said Brooke.
“It’s because the girl tending bar just started last night.”
Brooke glanced over at the bar. “Rookies.”
“Really,” said Erika. “Well, stop by anytime.”
“We will.”
Erika walked behind the bar and took some guy’s drink order. Brooke ordered a couple Heinekens from a nearby cocktail waitress. The woman returned with the beers several minutes later. Brooke paid for both drinks.
“Thanks,” said Brandy. “I’ll get the next one.”
“Okay.”
Brooke gazed around the room. About nine-fifteen, she spotted Allison near the entrance of the bar. She was standing in a circle with several other girls.
“There’s the head cheerleader right there,” said Brooke.
“Where?”
“Over there.” Brooke pointed at the group of four girls. “I’m going to go say something to her.”
“Who?”
“Jesus, Brandy, haven’t you been listening to me?”
“I’m sorry. I had my mind on something else.”
“I was talking about that Allison chick. Look at her.” Brandy glanced over at the girls. “That cocky bitch is standing over there with some of her friends. She thinks she’s so damn tough.”
Brandy continued staring at the teenagers. “Just chill,” she said.
“No fuckin’ way. Those girls have been taunting me for weeks now. And if I don't stick up for myself, they'll just think I'm some big pussy.”
“I’d be careful about approaching that girl. She did slam you against the wall over at Taco Bell.”
“She got lucky and surprised me with that move,” said Brooke. “Tonight, I’m ready for anything she dishes out.”
Brooke sipped her beer for a half minute or so, then walked over toward Allison. Brandy shook her head as she followed her.
“Hey, high school girl,” shouted Brooke. Allison turned her head and spotted her. The right side of her lip curled into a snarl as she eyed the woman.
“What the hell are you doing here, bitch? This is Teen Night, not Thirty and Over Night.” She glanced at one of her friends, laughed, then looked back at Brooke.
“I came to talk to you.”
Allison chuckled some more as she exchanged furtive glances with two of her friends. “Oh, yeah. What about?”
“About that horrible gang you're in -- and the constant shit you keep shoving my way.”
"You're a shit-kicking cowgirl," said Allison. "Deal with it like you always do."
"Why you stupid-ass cheerleader."
Allison -- unfazed -- eyed her two friends again, then looked back at Brooke. “I keep picking on you because I know I can kick your ass.” She rolled her eyes. Her friends laughed.
"Oh, yeah. Well try me now." Brooke strolled up to within three feet of Allison and pointed her beer bottle at her. “I'm going to kick your ass, you cocky high school cheerleader, and you know I can do it.”
Allison shook her head. “You’re delusional, bitch, not to mention rude.” She frowned and flicked her right hand at Brooke. “Why don’t you and this other barrel-racing skank just go home and ride your horses -- as if barrel racing is really a sport.” Allison and the girls chuckled.
“I’m not going anywhere, cheerleader bitch.” Allison gritted her teeth. "And for your information, barrel racing is a sport -- a very tough one."
"I doubt that," said Allison. "You want tough, try cheerleading."
"F*ck you, high school bitch."
“Why don’t you call the bouncer over,” one girl said.
“I’ll take care of this myself,”
Allison turned toward Brooke. “I don’t know who you think you are, cowgirl, but I don’t like you, and I certainly don't like yoiu interrupting my fun on 'Teen Night'.”
“That's too bad, bitch, because you're going down tonight.”
“Brooke,” said Brandy. “Come on.” She grabbed Brooke’s arm. Brooke jerked it away and eyed the teenager, who had her by a few inches and twenty pounds.
Allison looked at Brandy, then glared at Brooke.
“Okay. I’m going to give you five seconds to walk away,” said Allison. “And if you don’t, I’m going to knock you the f*ck out. Is that what you want, to get your ass kicked in front of all these kids? I thought you got the message last time at Taco Bell.”
“F*ck you, high school girl.”
Brooke, who’d had a couple drinks before she left her apartment, was a little tipsy—and the beer wasn’t helping matters. She stepped forward and shoved Allison’s shoulder with her left hand. Allison shoved Brooke back, knocking her cowboy hat askew. The blonde almost lost her balance as she groped for her hat and pushed it back in place. And when Brooke stepped toward her again, Allison jerked the beer bottle out of her hand and grabbed Brooke’s belt buckle. She then yanked on her belt, stuck the neck of the beer bottle down Brooke’s jeans and emptied the contents into her pants.
“Oooooo,” one girl shouted. “I bet that bald little kitty of yours is cold.”
Brooke stood there with a look of horror on her face as she watched the Heineken stain the front of her new Levi's. “Oh, you fuckin’ bitch,” shouted Brooke. “I’m going to kick your ass.”
She raised her arm to slap Allison. Just as Brooke arced her swing around, some fat girl grabbed her right wrist and jerked her arm down. She then grabbed Brooke by the neck of her blouse, pulled her toward her and stuck her round face next to the blonde barrel racer's thin oval one. She snarled at the woman as she looked down at her.
“Nobody’s kicking anyone’s ass here tonight, especially you.”
“Get off me, you fat cow,” shouted Brooke -- the brim of her cowboy hovering just inches above her eyes.. She tried to pull her shirt loose from the girl’s viselike grasp but couldn’t. “Let go of me.”
“Fight,” some guy shouted. “Catfight!”
A crowd of high school students started circling around the scene. The fat girl glared at Brooke as she tightened her grip on her shirt, forcing her up onto the toes of her boots. Brooke’s arms hung down like pendulums—with her body leaning forward—as the girl clenched her fist.
“Smash the bitch, Gretchen,” shouted one of the girls.
“Yeah, break her nose,” said another chick.
At least a dozen kids pulled their cell phones out and started filming the incident.
Gretchen released her grip on Brooke’s blouse. The blonde staggered backward a couple steps in her boots as the beer suds crept up her vagina and ass crack. Brooke felt miserable and humiliated. Brandy tried to grab her arm again, but Brooke shook her hand away. She then looked up at the tall, hefty girl as she readjusted her hat.
“I’m not afraid of you, fatso.”
“You should be,” said Gretchen. “I’ve got you by at least eight inches and a hundred and forty pounds. And by the looks of you, I'd say one punch will do the job."
“Who cares,” said Brooke. “You girls are all talk. Besides, you’re just some fat high school girl—and I’m not afraid of any stupid high school bitch.”
Brooke stepped forward and tried to shove the girl. Gretchen didn’t budge. She just smirked, grabbed Brooke’s shoulder, leaned forward and socked her in the gut with an upper cut.
“Uhhhhhh!"
Brooke's hat flew off and landed by the girl's feet. She smirked as she smashed the hat with her left gym shoe.
The dull thud from the blow caused Brandy to cringe. Brooke’s mouth hung open as she leaned forward and sank to her knees. She then looked up at the girl—mouth still agape. She grabbed her stomach with both hands and started retching. She then leaned forward and vomited on the floor.
A bunch of teens started laughing and pointing at Brooke. Gretchen grabbed the back of Brooke’s hair and jerked her head back. Brooke moaned as the girl pulled her hair back even further, bending her backward like doughy pretzel. Her eyes were closed as she bit her lower lip and grimaced in pain—the ass of her jeans planted on her bootheels. Puke was caked on her mouth.
“You're not the first drunk barrel racer who's wondered in her looking for a fight with my girls and me, only to get their clocks cleaned. And I'm sure you won't be the last. But I suggest you and your friend get the hell out of here right now,” said Gretchen. She yanked on Brooke’s hair again. Brooke screamed. “And if I ever see you in this place again, it’ll be the end of you. You hear me, cowgirl cxnt?”
“Yes,” cried Brooke. “Oh, please let go of my hair. I beg you.”
She released Brooke’s hair. Brooke fell sideways but still landed on her hands and knees. Gretchen placed her foot on the woman’s ass and shoved her forward. She smacked her chin on the floor as she collapsed to her stomach. A bouncer walked over and helped Brooke up off the floor.
"Wait a minute," shouted Brooke. "That fat girl just smashed my hat. She owes me two hundred dollars."
Gretchen bent her massive body down and picked up the cowboy hat. She walked over and stuffed in on top of Brooke's head with more than a little force.
"F*ck you, fat girl."
Brandy watched Brooke stagger toward the girl. She then cringed again as the fat girl's fist slammed into her jaw, knocking her across a table six feet away, spilling several beers and upending a bar stool.
Brooke was lying facedown across the table as the bouncer walked over and grabbed her arm.
“Come on, blondie. It’s time to go. And I better not see you in this place again.”
"Let go of me," shouted Brooke. She staggered again as she eyed the fat high school girl. "You want some more, bitch? Because I'm going to bloody your nose and mouth even more with the next punch."
Brooke's throat churned as she touched her nose and mouth and felt something sticky. Gretchen now had a cell phone in her hand as did every other teen in the place.
"I'll give you one thing, cowgirl. You do have a nice ass in those tight jeans. Too bad I had to kick it up and down the bar floor."
"F*ck you, high school girl."
"I'd say you're the one who was f*cked," said Gretchen. "And by the way cowgirl skank, Allison recorded every bit of our fight. And Katie over there videoed you starting a fight with Allison. You're going to be a star on Tiktok, cowgirl cxnt, and be seen by millions of teens. And this is just the beginning. I'm going to keep an eye on you, and at some point, one of the girls will fight you for her initiation into our gang. And it could be Allison."
Brooke stood were here mouth open, but couldn't think of anything to say. The bouncer grabbed her arm again and jerked her around.
"Hey, you f*ckin' asshole!" She slapped the guys arm, which prompted him to grab her around the back of the neck.
"I'm pressing charges for that," she shouted, as the guy walked her to the door, opened it and shoved her outside."
Brandy grabbed Brooke's arm outside and tried to calm her down."
"Did you see that shit in there. I wanted to fight that cheerleader and instead ended up fighting some big heifer."
"Come on Brooke. Let's go home."
Brooke walked with Brandy, then swabbed her nose. "I'm bleeding she said. That girl bloodied my nose when she punched me."
"No," said Brandy. "You hit it on the table, but you're okay."
"Oh, f*ck," shouted Brooke, as she stomped her boot on the pavement outside the bar. "Those girls ruined my hat and my new jeans."
"You can wash the jeans," said Brandy.
"They owe me money. I'm going back."
"You can't. You were kicked out of the bar. Besides, that girl will kill you if she sees you again. I think she placed third at the state shot put championship this year."
"Shit," said Brooke. "Who won?"
"You wouldn't want to know."
"I guess not because she'd probably flatten my skinny ass."
Brooke took a couple steps, then turned toward Brandy.
"They filmed my ass on TikTok. I'll be a laughing stock getting my ass handed to me by some fat high school girl."
"You'll survive."
"F*ck, my jeans are are wet and riding up my pussy. This night has really sucked the big dick."
"You're the one who wanted to come."
"F*ck you, Brandy.
So that ends the first chapter in Brooke's quest to fight Allison. Will the two ever go at it? Stay tuned for more action.
