A few years ago, my friend M and I were headed to the birthday party of a mutual friend. We arrived early and were enjoying overpriced, underwhelming cocktails when we noticed that the rest of the birthday party was ostensibly late. Turns out, they were at a different bar, the birthday girl being already too intoxicated to be allowed entrance into the bar we were in.
Taking the last sips of our drinks, we headed out in search of our party, which had been moved to a bar about five blocks away. Downtown being downtown, it was fairly busy at that time of night, but not particularly on the street we were on. We strolled, chatting, enjoying some fresh air and quiet before the onslaught of humanity that would inevitably crowd the bar we were going to.
From the opposite direction, two guys were walking down the sidewalk, one of average size, and the other guy was practically the Hulk in an Ed Hardy t-shirt. He was easily 6’7″ and built like a brick wall. I wasn’t paying much attention since I was so engrossed in my conversation with M. Before I knew it, Hulk picked me up, and started walking off with me. I was trapped in a traveling, steroidal bear hug.
At first, M didn’t notice because the move to sweep me off my feet had been so fluid, but then she heard average-sized man freaking out and screaming “Oh my God! Put her down!” I was no longer beside her so she came running after us.
In that moment, I didn’t really know what to do. The whole thing seemed a bit surreal. I just held still while this colossus continued to, well, cuddle with me on the sidewalk.
“What are you doing?” M shrieked. “Put down my friend!”
When I was finally on my feet again, averaged-sized man started babbling about how drunk Hulk was, and yes, he seemed quite inebriated. I was glad he didn’t drop me on the ground.
“I’m sorry,” he said finally. “She looked like she needed a hug.”
Lesson learned: Be afraid of exceptionally tall men in need of a cuddle.