You can tell it's going to be a hell of a year when, three hours into it, police show up at a Denny's—a Denny's—to break up a fight. Maybe you had to be there. I was.
At 3 a.m. on New Year's Eve, that particular Henderson-area Denny's was fairly busy, mostly people wanting pancakes and other breakfast foods to help absorb at least some of the alcohol they'd consumed in the last several hours—there were enough people that we had to sit in the smoking section. Ten minutes after arriving, we heard a commotion behind us. We turned to find two guys yelling at each other, one black, one white. A slew of insults were flying from the white guy's mouth. "You ain't shit," he yelled, and I swear I heard him say, "I'll eat your soul." By this point, the once- jovial mood had become deathly still.
One of the gentlemen walked outside, very soon followed by the other. Please keep in mind that they were both drunk. I'd guess about 25 or 30 people crowded to the windows. Being at a window seat, I had a prime view. The instigator of the commotion—described by one of my friends as "an Abercrombie & Fitch-wearing redneck"—was trying to be tough, getting in the other guy's face; but the second man got him into a stranglehold after about three seconds. The friends of the two men, who had followed them outside, quickly broke up the scuffle, and we thought it was over.
But the white guy came in and made a commotion. Perhaps trying to save a little face as he sat back down at his table, he proceeded to shout "Black power!" and start laughing.
That was probably a mistake.
The African-American, back in his place at the counter, was greatly offended by it, and in response ran up and attacked the man with a series of blows to the head. The white guy, trapped in the booth, covered his face until the black guy was pulled off. Then the white guy took off, followed shortly by his friends.
At this point, the shit had hit the fan. Random people started shoving each other, some throwing punches. Two of the main combatants—one a friend of the white guy, one a friend of the black man—were held apart by the server, who had each man by his shirt. He told them to take it outside. They did, and a few people followed. My friends and I abandoned subtlety and ran outside to get a good view. Meanwhile, the cook came out to move his car, from his spot in front of the restaurant to a spot away from the commotion. The words "police" and "called" were said by someone, and the men, at this point only yelling, decided that it was best to leave. So did the people at their tables. I've never once seen Denny's empty that fast—maybe 20 people were left by the time the police arrived. They took their report and left.
Our server, coincidentally the same guy who broke up some of the fighting, walked to our table, smiling. "Three a.m. and already breaking up fights," he said. "Happy New Year."