Saturday, November 06, 2004
Mean people suck
Something to add to my list of firsts since coming here: I was punched in the face last night.
There isn't even a proper story behind it. It was literally some random person on the street. Some random GIRL. She was a sturdy one, though. Don't get me wrong. Really big girl wearing ugly yeti boots that looked like they were stolen from a furry convention. I can say that now because SHE PUNCHED ME IN THE FACE.
I was walking home from Oh Henry's. My friends lived in the opposite direction, so I was heading home on foot by myself. The streets were filled with people, as the clubs were just letting out. There was a group of kids walking toward me, presumably just one of hundreds of groups of kids I might pass on Union Street. Then the girl on the end made a beeline for me and punched me. My glasses flew off my face and I doubled over, hearing only the girl's voice calling, "Ha, ha!" and the sound of her friends' raucous laughter. I felt something running down my face. I touched it with my hand, and it came away covered in blood.
What do you do after that? In a movie, we would have cut to me cleaning myself up back at the flat. In real life, I walked half a mile home with blood running down my face. People stared. It was surreal.
In the end, it wasn't a very big deal -- just a lot of blood coming out of a small wound. I've never had to do this kind of thing, but I've seen a lot of movies where they put alcohol on cuts and stuff to disinfect them. We don't have a first aid kit at the flat, so I used vodka. Does anyone know if that was wrong?
The big deal here is just the fact that it happened. Stranger, on the street, for no reason. It makes me angry that someone can just do that to you. It's so bizarre, I've already started convincing myself it couldn't possibly have happened. But it did. That girl was a mean, mean bitch. That's the only moral to this story.
So that happened.
There isn't even a proper story behind it. It was literally some random person on the street. Some random GIRL. She was a sturdy one, though. Don't get me wrong. Really big girl wearing ugly yeti boots that looked like they were stolen from a furry convention. I can say that now because SHE PUNCHED ME IN THE FACE.
I was walking home from Oh Henry's. My friends lived in the opposite direction, so I was heading home on foot by myself. The streets were filled with people, as the clubs were just letting out. There was a group of kids walking toward me, presumably just one of hundreds of groups of kids I might pass on Union Street. Then the girl on the end made a beeline for me and punched me. My glasses flew off my face and I doubled over, hearing only the girl's voice calling, "Ha, ha!" and the sound of her friends' raucous laughter. I felt something running down my face. I touched it with my hand, and it came away covered in blood.
What do you do after that? In a movie, we would have cut to me cleaning myself up back at the flat. In real life, I walked half a mile home with blood running down my face. People stared. It was surreal.
In the end, it wasn't a very big deal -- just a lot of blood coming out of a small wound. I've never had to do this kind of thing, but I've seen a lot of movies where they put alcohol on cuts and stuff to disinfect them. We don't have a first aid kit at the flat, so I used vodka. Does anyone know if that was wrong?
The big deal here is just the fact that it happened. Stranger, on the street, for no reason. It makes me angry that someone can just do that to you. It's so bizarre, I've already started convincing myself it couldn't possibly have happened. But it did. That girl was a mean, mean bitch. That's the only moral to this story.
So that happened.
