One evening I went out to a lounge that was a bit of a distance from my
beach-side residence. I was hoping that
I might be able to have a normal evening out without being hasseled by The
Crazies and their followers. That hope
was quickly extinguished when shortly after entering the establishment, I was
standing in a crowd of people when I suddenly felt heat in my lower back on the
right side. I quickly turned to see a
large man making a hasty retreat through the crowd. I reached behind me and felt around the area
where I had experienced the sensation of
heat. There I noticed a hole in my
pants. I headed for the restroom,
removed my pants and examined the back of them.
There in my white jean type pants was a hole with burn marks around
it. Someone had deliberately burned a
hole in my pants with a cigarette. Back
then when people could smoke in lounges and restuarants, walking around with a
cigarette in your hand was quit common.
And the fascist state supporters had learned that you can ruin articles
of clothing by "accidently" burning holes in them.
This had happened once before when a man "accidently" burned a
hole in a expensive sports coat. After
that incident, I learned not to wear anything out that was too expensive. Since I didn't have many expsive items and I
had very little money, protecting what I had was important to me. And of course, The Crazies and their fascist
state worshiping followers knew that and they made efforts to destroy anything
I had. This current pants burning was
just another example.
The manner in which the man had exited the scene like a hit-and-run
accident didn't leave me many options so I returned to the lounge where
I was fortunate enough to find a seat at the bar where I could protect my
back. As I sat there, I noticed a large
man across the room standing at a table with a couple of his friends. I was certain that the man was the one I had
seen running away earlier. I got up from
my seat at the bar, walked through the dimly lit area of tables and seating,
walked up to the man and confronted him.
The man's reaction to my accusation that he had burned a hole in my pants
was "So What?!". After we
exchanged a few more words, I started to turn away to return to the bar. That is
when this man who stood about 6'2'' and out-weighed me by about 100 lbs,
took both fists and hit me as hard as he could on my shoulders. The strange thing was, I knew he had hit me,
but it felt like he hit a wall of air between me and him. I didn't feel anything except the sensation
that a small puff of air had touched me.
I just turned back to the man, looked at him as if to say, "What
did you do that for?" and then continued my trip back to the bar.
The man and the women standing next to him just stood there with
dumbfounded , blank stares on their faces.
They couldn't understand what had just happened. I am sure he had expected me to go flying
across the tables and the room, and instead I just stood there like nothing had
happened. They and the people around
them stood there motionless like they were frozen in time.
Nest post coming SOON!
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