Daily Archive for July 30th, 2006

Kickin’ Ass And Takin’ Names

Published on July 30, 2006 in For the Record, Soapbox and Therapy. 3 Comments

Well, after reminding me of several of my faults Blossom reminded me that I have in fact thrown a punch after junior high school. I told my therapist the same thing last week when we talked about violence. I’d forgotten but she’s right. I did get into a physical altercation back before 2000. I can’t remember the exact year but I do remember that it was January 1st, New Years Day at about 2am.

I was home in bed when someone started beating at the front door. I thought it was my then partner Columbus so I jumped up kinda pissed that she’d be at the door at that hour. I didn’t open the door though. I peaked out the peep hole to make sure it was her and to give me some time to figure out the right words to raise cane with. I looked out but it wasn’t her it was some guy telling me to let him in and to quit playing with him. I told him he had the wrong house. He said, I’ll step back and let you take a look at me. He never stepped back. It was then that I knew I was in trouble.

He started kicking the front door in so I ran into the bedroom and called 911. I was on the phone with them as he kicked in the door. I kept telling him that they were on the way but he kept kicking it in. It got quiet for a second and the operator asked me if he was still there. That’s when he started kicking in the back door. She said, where is he? I said he’s in the house. I thought to myself, “This man is going to hurt me.” That thought was followed by, “No he’s not.” He opened the bedroom door and we stood face to face. I screamed at him, “What do you want?” in this rather irritated tone. Then I said with equal irritation, “I don’t care what you want.” I happened to have had the fire extinguisher in the bedroom with me. I can’t even remember why it was in there but it was. I picked it up and conked him in the head with it twice. He went down like a sack of potatoes. I started kicking him while he was on my freshly vacuumed carpet. He was screaming, “Stop! Stop!” I was kicking and stomping, punching and swearing all while the dispatcher listened and recorded. Finally I let him up and he ran outside and passed out on the front lawn. The police took him away. Before they left the cop told me that I got lucky in that I hit him with the extinguisher. He said most people don’t ever land the first swing. He gave me a tip. He said, if this ever happens again spray him instead of trying to hit him with it. He said, but know this, the chances of him living are slim to none if you spray him just right. I was like, well, …um…okay.

Fire extinguishers have come to be more than for putting out toaster oven fires, they’re a weapon for stupid intruders that cross my threshold. So I guess I can stop saying that I haven’t thrown a punch since junior high school because I have. I’d just forgotten. I still say I’m not a violent person. I have to really be pushed and I think it’s safe to say that he pushed. The bitch slapping wasn’t virtual though.

Joan of Arc

Kickin’ Ass And Takin’ Names-Sunday, July 30, 2006-12:07 noon

Wanted to Kick Ass and Take a Name

Published on July 30, 2006 in For the Record, Soapbox and Therapy. 2 Comments

Wanted to Kick Ass and Take a Name – Sunday, July 30, 2006-12:49:49 noon/PM

Still on the “I haven’t thrown a punch” thing..

I guess I have thrown a punch but as far as I know it’s only been one time that I needed to do it. I was almost pushed to it back in 2004 when I got hit by my own Ford Bronco. Yeah, only Austin would get hit by her own truck! Okay, I should have just taken the truck down the street to the Jiffy Lube but no, I had to save money and change the oil myself. I guess I didn’t get it in gear very well before I started the whole thing. So, it started rolling forward. I tried to run around the side and jump in to stop the car but my short self didn’t quite make it inside. The truck whipped me around, dragged me about 10 to 15 feet then pinned me underneath it. I learned that when a car or truck drags you it tears off your clothing so there I was with only a shirt on pinned under the truck. See, when stuff happens to me it has to go from bad to humiliating within seconds. My fat ass is laying naked and trapped under the friggin truck! I tried to scream but I found out quickly that all my energy was dragged out of me and lay on East Street somewhere near my pants. I decided that there was no telling when someone was going to come along and see me so I’d just leave. I dissociated and I either passed out or fell asleep like I was planning to do..thus I left. I really don’t know if I passed out or went to sleep but the plan was to force dissociation and then fall asleep. When I woke up some guy was standing in front of me asking me if I was okay. No, I didn’t say, “Here’s your sign.” I asked him to drive the truck off of me. He said, I really don’t want to drive your car. I said, just drive it off of me. He never said why. Had he said, well, let me call the police and they’ll get you out. I don’t want to hurt you. He just said, No I really don’t want to drive your car. He never offered to call the police so I told him to do it. But it just angered me that he was arguing with me and looking at me. I couldn’t believe that he argued with a trapped woman. Finally I did enough cursing to get him to get in the truck and back it off of me. When I stood up and walked to get my pants he had the nerve to say, “You’re going to hell. You know that?” he said it because of all the cursing I was doing even after he drove the car off of me. See, in my life things go from bad to worse to humiliating to down right unbelievable within a very short period of time.

Somehow I managed to not break a darn thing. The truck rested on my leg for I don’t know how long but somehow I didn’t break one bone. I do have what I call East Street burn on my legs though. Darn drag marks! That day, had I found my strength next to my pants I may have taken to violence. But as it was, I didn’t find it. No swings on that day but plenty of bumps and bruises. I should have just gone to Jiffy Lube.

Joan of Arc