Friday, July 3, 2009

And This is a Curb Stomping

I was completely minding my own business after leaving my great grandmother's house. There was apparently an LSU game going on, of which I had previously not been aware. The larger house in the neighborhood had college age kids spilling out of it, mostly guys. They were all in purple and gold garb and the word obnoxious falls short of their behavior. One who had painted his face yellow on one half and purple on the other approached me.

"Bro, yo, bro, are you a LSU fan?" I replied, "Well, yea, they haven't always been my favorite team, but I really appreciate them for where they've come in the last 5 years. I mean, I'm a native Memphian, so I have to support my tigers, but other than them, yes, LSU is my favorite team."

"Bro, you have to come in and have a drink with us to celebrate. You're one of us, bro." They were all drinking out of huge purple goblets filled with yellow fluid. All I could smell was alcohol. I went to reach out my hand to take the glass, but there was one girl, who was not wearing the typical LSU garb. She was just wearing a blue t-shirt. She had a look on her face of misery and she was shaking her head no. The "bros" couldn't see her. There was something about her, maybe it's becaue I'm a sucker for long brown hair and dark eyes, but most likely it was her expression and the sincerity in the way she was trying to keep me from drinking with them.

"You know," I said, "I better not. I have to drive home, and I live across town in Bartlett. There are so many cops around here, and after the storm with all the downed trees, I really shouldn't be drinking." I went to step into my truck and put the keys into the ignition.

"Dude, responsible guy, I like that man. If you want we have some fresh crawfish inside and some killer boutin if you want a bite?"

This was an offer I could not refuse. I don't care how obnoxious these characters were, their faux cajun hospitality was kind, and they offered me food. I can't turn down good food. I stepped out of the truck, and the now scared looking brown eyed girl in blue was sticking to me like fly paper. I had never seen this girl before in my life and I could tell she wasn't sticking to me because she was attracted to me, she was scared.

I picked up a plate and put just a few items on it. I said hi to the other party goers, turned down several more drink offers, thanked everyone for their hospitality and left. When I went to leave the girl tugged on my shirt and said, "I don't care where you're going just get me out of here, please!" I replied, "Sure, sure. I havne't had a single drink. You're safe with me, come on. I was getting a vibe that something was wrong. "Come on, let's hurry. If these guys see you leave with me I'm sure a scene will be made." We went in the general direction of where I had parked my truck. "Please, forgive my lack of chivalry, but I'm not going to waste any time opening the door for you and walking around to get in, there are too many of these guys and I don't want any problems."

Upon arriving to the location of my truck, all that remained was an empty parking spot. "FUCK, I left my fucking keys in the ignition!" I started looking around and I noticed that there it was, a block down. One of the bros had a flashlight and from what I could tell he was messing with the fuses under the steering column. He had a flashlight and was laying flat on his back. I gimp walked as quickly as I could over to him. He was oblivious to me.

With little warning, almost simultaneously I said, "Hey fucker!" while stomping on the bastard's head with my good leg. I then mounted him jiujitsu style, grabbed both of his ears and repeatedly slammed his head into the curb. The look on his face was one of terror. I then flipped him over and used the rough edge of the curb like a cheese grater on his face.

"You want to fuck with me?!? You want to fuck with my truck? You fucking cunt! That's my only way to and from work and you think it would be cute to fuck with it! Mother fucker I will kill you right now with my bare hands!"

I saw a broken tooth fall out of his head and he mumbled the phrase, "P-Please stop. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'll fix it." I rolled the guy over. His eyes were bloody and his face looked like hamburger meat. Most of the skin from the right side of his face was gone. His forehead and back of his head already had severe swelling. He no longer looked human, but like an orc, he looked like his true self. I got off the guy picked up the flashlight and saw where fuses had been pulled out, some barely plugged in, others rearranged. I plugged in the ones that were not in all the way but my ignition would not start. The guy pulled a fuse out of his pocket and put it into place. "I'm sorry man, I really am."

The girl in blue did not look mortified by my display of rage like I thought she would. Instead she looked relieved as if she had wanted someone to do that to the bastard for a while; some sort of Olive Oil complex I suppose. We got in my truck, exited the neighborhood and made it a few blocks down Germantown Pkwy. Then the adrenaline dump wore off. "I've got to pull over, NOW!" I pulled over into the Waffle House parking lot and began wretching and throwing up. This happens to me after I get violently angry or something overly excitable happens. After the adrenaline has run its course I get ill. I got back into the truck, got the little bottle of Listerene out of my glove box and used it.

I began sobbing. "I'm ao sorry about what happened back there. Sometimes when I get angry I lose control. It's like watchin a movie of someone else." I was trembling and crying. SHe leaned across the seat and put her arms around me. As soon as she touched me I felt warm. Most of my own fear was gone. "No, ir'a okay. He deserved what he got and you got me out of there. Thank you. Everything is going to be okay."

At this point I woke up in tears, sick to my stomach, and trembling. I hate waking dreams. I have them frequently, but this is one of the more disturbing ones I've had in a while. I wish my leg were better so I could get back into martial arts. I've had a lot of anger, frustration, and rage building up lately and I want to prevent this from happening in reality. I've been taking clonazepam and xanax to help with my temper. They don't seem to be helping enough. The ambien at night is helping me sleep, and I'm not sure if it's the chemical reaction of it while I'm sleeping that is causing these waking dreams or situational life changes that are making my subconscious run wild. I will say though, ambien always gives me the best 8 hours of sleep and I wake up on my own without the need of an alarm clock. In any event I definitely need more than a little chemical help if I'm going to maintain my composuew and stay out of prison.

4 comments:

  1. Well, the Ambien is probably the cause of your dreams... but you already know that.

    I think if you find the right Taekwondo instructor, your bad leg will not matter. You just have to modify for your injury. It is really no big deal-kinda like modifying a crunch for someone with an injured back. You should really consider looking into that some more; it will help you physically and emotionally (as you already know).

    I will be praying for you, and I love you.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I just wanted to let everyone know that the author of this blog died Tuesday night... It is really heart breaking. An autoposy has yet to be performed but I will post everything here as more information comes availble.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Hey laura, this is Tristan..Do u have aim?

    ReplyDelete
  4. Hi there colleagues, gooԁ piece of ωгiting аnd fastidious urging commentеd
    herе, Ӏ am truly enjoyіng bу theѕe.


    Reνiew my blog pоѕt :: pure hcg

    ReplyDelete