Then one of his buddies hit me from the side.
My nose blazed with pain.
The hollow lost its shape. Different—yet not much different yells were raised.
Someone cracked the back of my head.
I saw a place between two fat men, lunged at it, looked back. The sergeant was slowly sitting down, fumbling for his handkerchief.
Blows fell on me. A man in a navy uniform grabbed my arm. I hit him and he let go. The crowd closed around me.
When, after long minutes of pushing and weaving, I emerged on a side street, my nose was bleeding.
I wiped it and went, somewhat shakily, to the hotel.
The nosebleed stopped in a few minutes.
I turned on my radio and found a cello solo amongst the predinner music.