Now maybe as outside observers, we could see the pack mentality, the configuration of these woman and the devotion to one in particular. A Petite blonde, the center of attention and the inevitable item of affection to Fidney. Making eye contact he strikes up a conversation, and buys the young lass a drink, on account of celebrating. Though he never really knows what the celebration is all about, and doesn't bother asking.
The rounds of drinks pass and we take notice of M.S with a shit eating grin on his face. We see the ladies look on in disbelief which quickly turns to horror. Fidney continues to ramble on in an animated fashion, arms flailing, head weaving side to side. Quickly M.S leaves his post as wing man and heads to us as to disassociate him self with Fidney. M.S weaves a tale of Fidney's feeble attempt to impress the ladies he was surrounded by. Mr. Hero's, as M.S renamed him, exploits of life as a medic in the big apple, include tales of dying baby's, being shot at, and saving those sworn to protect the people of NY. These are all in a days work for this man. By the looks of the ladies, what went from a casual interest, irrefutably changes to disbelief. With the bar tenders jumping on the bar to do a dance grabbing Fidney's attention in mid sentence these opportunistic ladies simultaneously finish their Cosmo's and beat feet.
Slightly dismayed Fidney heads to the rest of us and talks a big game. We let him chat on and on ever knowing the glorious ball of fire he was shot down in. We continue our adventures of the night and to this day we know Fidney as the man to drive an entire Bachelorette party from a bar, in Sin City.
Moral of this story guys: Never over play the hero card.