I’m not really one to do any fighting (though I do know what a punch in the face feels like). In fact, I do rather like to consider myself a pacifist, the pen is stronger than the sword after all (and I did manage to talk myself out of being stabbed, so that seems to be working out alright for me). But today’s blog entry will be about the time when something happened which is the closest I’ve ever come to being in a fight.
Back in 2008, there was somebody who I didn’t quite like. He would often tell jokes which were immature, homophobic, racist, sexist or just otherwise offensive. As such I was venting about him to a friend of mine and I got a little carried away with my criticism. I started (quite rudely) to insult his appearance and described him as an ogre. I do realise that was quite childish and mean of me, but, I guess I just went a little too far since I didn’t like him very much. Sadly, this friend of mine also happened to be a friend of his, and, I suppose through feelings of loyalty, felt that they had to tell him what I said. As I’m sure you can understand, he was more than a little unhappy with me when I bumped into him on the school field a day or so later.
“So, you don’t like me then? Think I look like an ogre?” he asked me.
“Well, uh, yes, I guess so, sorry!” I replied.
“Well guess what? I don’t like you very much either. It’s about time I taught you a lesson.”
He then picked up a huge branch from the ground and started swiping it towards me. Since I didn’t want to get hit by it, I decided to grab the end of it and try and pluck it out of his hands. Unfortunately, he had quite a strong grip on it, and, with me holding the other end, he waved it (and so also me) around.
Once I’d realised that being swung around on the end of a stick wasn’t the most effective manoeuvre, I decided to let go.
“Hmm,” I said. “Where are Ben and Laura? They’d normally defend me in a situation like this.”
“Well, they’re not here. You’re just a pathetic person who can’t do anything without depending on other people.”
He swung the branch and I narrowly avoided it.
“Yes, I guess so,” I replied.
He swung again.
“By the way,” I said, “have you realised the irony of this situation?”
“Well, you’re offended because I said you looked like an ogre, but have you considered that using a tree branch as a club and attacking me with it is rather ogre-like behaviour?”
I suppose it’s rather unsurprising that this made him even angrier.
After dodging a few more branch attacks, I decided that the best course of action was to run away. After I’d gone a short way, I was lucky enough to run into my friends Ben and Laura. He was a little behind me (it was probably hard to run so fast when holding a big branch) and so I decided to wait by them. When he did arrive, they defended me just as I had imagined: they were both friends with him and he obviously didn’t want to do something so violent in front of them, so he put down his branch and I managed to successfully escape any harm!