Butterfly Gets Punched
If you think consequence hasn’t caught up with my actions, then you are wrong. For all the bullshit I’ve thrown at people at the clubs, to get away entirely unscathed over the last three years would have been nothing short of a miracle. Much like Butterfly finding a girlfriend or a Singapore Olympic gold.
For my club antics, lesser men would have had ashtrays flung at them or stabbed in the ass with a barstool, but being me and blessed with an impunity for backlashes, I’ve only ever had one reaction which completely caught me off guard. I was punched.
If you know me and what alcohol does to my tongue, you’d also know that as much as I’m hilariously entertaining when I start insulting people, I’m also a liability to be around. As Reznor puts,
“If you put him in a room with alcohol, he will start a bar fight. And if there isn’t anyone around, he’d probably start insulting himself.”
Yes, you read it right. I was punched. Square in the face by a girl who didn’t take too kindly to my flirting (with another girl) and riposted my attempts to pacify her with a Tyson worthy jab.
Her name was Fiona. An icy bitch that never believed in the merits of smiling but it didn’t matter since she looked great at being fierce. She was also hugely possessive and believed strongly that men should be put on a leashed and kept at a proximity where she could monitor their every activity. If she could, she’d probably have them wear a chastity belt.
Naturally this ideology didn’t digest well with me, but this was years ago, when I still had tolerance, so long as they provided me with visual pleasures. The clash was inevitable and I was just pushing her limit buttons a little too hard till it finally bukaked right into my face, with a sting.
While I already knew she was pissed, I didn’t know she was also,
1. Violent and short-tempered
2. A boxer with a good right master handed jab.
It was harmless flirting on my part but it was gross intolerance on hers and as much as I can be nonchalantly insensitive, I’m also blessed with Spider Senses to know when trouble is brewing around the corner.
I went back to see her face darker than doomsday. If she was a chameleon and had on an afro, she would have qualified to be Macy Grey. I knew she was pissed and since it usually takes little for me to cheer people up, I decided to play out my tease.
It started with a circling round her, breathing into the small of her back and slowly progressing to her ears. Then I grinned at her,
Me: “Something wrong? Angry?”
A normal reaction would have been some eye rolling or complete ignorance. Maybe to look away from me and lie as most people do when they say, “no” or “nothing”. But this girl defied normalcy. Entirely.
What greeted me instead as a stinging jab that caught me straight in the mouth just as I was about to deliver my second line of pacification. It caught me with a sting and mouthful of surprise. I was at Zouk and I just got punched. This was going to look great on my dating resume.
I immediately clutched my mouth, then dabbed it with my fingers to check for bleeding.
Me: “What the fuck!”
She looked away. She apparently had the whole procedure wrong. You are supposed to look away first and retaliate only when the person continues to piss you off. In that instance, a knee to the gut would have been perfectly legitimate. Or an eye gorge maybe.
I immediately turned to LB and did the only mature thing possible.
Me: “Let’s go! The bitch just punched me.”
So I stormed off without so much as a goodbye and left her entirely rooted to the table. Along the way I also bitched incessantly about it and I might have spewed enough expletives to dialogue for a rap concert.
She called me shortly after while I was waiting for the valet to get my car.
She: “Am I going home with you?”
Me: “ARE YOU CRAZY?! YOU JUST FUCKING PUNCHED ME!”
She: “But I want to go home with you..”
Me: “YOU JUST PUNCHED ME! WHAT DO YOU THINK?!”
Apparently, I’m wrong about her. In addition to her being violent and a boxer, she is also palpably a psycho.