The Assault Episode – The Menu of Who’s Who & What’s What

Assault / əsáwlt / əsólt / n. & v.

1 a violent physical or verbal attack

2 a Law an act that threatens physical harm to a person whether or not actual harm is done)

Source: Reader's Digest Oxford Complete Wordfinder

What doesn't kill, makes you stronger – and be able to blog about it. =)

I am blogging this after much thought, partly after having a full recovery from the aftermath of the assault. A mental recovery, more of. Virtually unscathed, I suffer no long-lasting effects of the assault.

The one thing I've learnt from this incident is that, I realised I'm all grown up. I have to stand on my own two feet. I have stepped out of the security line, that line that separates childhood and adulthood.

Often, we want to put one foot in the former and the other foot in the latter zone; wanting to be an adult, to be seen and heard, yet grasping firmly for security, not prepared to let go, fearful that things will be a mouthful for you.

To the readers, (hopefully) this entry enlightens you about practising vigilance and caution. Life is not a bed of roses, but we can put on rose-tinted spectacles contact lenses.

• diners: me, people in car, people in van
• other patrons: bloody, busybody, curious onlookers who even bothered to stop their car, come down, and watch the main course (rude to stare at people eating y'know?) wtf – well, that figures =)
• restaurant: along a busy road somewhere
• restaurant rating: 5 star!
• appetizer: on the way to mamak
• menu: alleged accident
• main course: argument served with: finger-pointing
• soup of the day: loud, raised voices soup garnish: uncivilised mannerisms (by other diners)
• side order: assault
• drinks: free flow of arguments from start to the end
• dessert: how to eat dessert when the main course is already a mouthful for them all of us?

It started off innocently enough. I had received an SMS in the earlier part of the evening (whilst I was having steamboat) asking me to go out for supper.

So, I was on my way there, until I reached The Junction That Could've Ruined It All. I slowed down well before the junction, turned left, drove for approximately 5 meters or so, then I felt a knock on my car bumper. This "felt the knock" shall be intriguing later.

A stream of curse words rushed from my mouth the moment I "felt the knock". *Refrain from typing it, Freddy. Refrain from typing it*

So, I stepped out of the car to see what had happened. Obviously, the first thing is to check your own car. There was no noticeable dent.

Introducing the other diners, aptly labelled as WWOT, WWT, HOWWOT. Don't even ask me what the acronyms are.

WWOT: (Scrutinises my car as she prepares her offensive) Your car is fine! My car how?!

Me: (Looks at her car, and the throng of disgrunted-looking *refrain yourself, refrain yourself* people *pats myself on the shoulder*) Why are you blaming me? She's (pointing at WWT) the one that knocked into you.

WWOT and WWT: Why did you drive slow? Just drive out, no need to see wan!

I suddenly got bolder and defensive.

Me: CAN YOU SEE THAT? (points to the 30 km/h sign aptly placed 3 metres from us) This is the turning into the main road, and you tell me no need to see, just turn left?

WWT: No need wan, over there green (traffic lights) means you just turn, no need to see any more.

Okay, so the next few conversations becomes a gibberish for me to recall as it all happens too fast amidst the finger-pointing, plenty of bloodiful faces I am trying to remember, and everyone's getting louder. I myself got louder telling everyone to calm down.

Wrong move.

Lesson 1: Never tell people to calm down.

Lesson 2: Newton's third law – Every action has its opposite reaction – is correct

HOWWOT advanced towards me, finger pointing menacingly.

HOWWOT: You gangster is it?! (x3) (He spent no effort in restraining himself with his finger-pointing wildly although I give him the benefit of the doubt that its shaking was due to Parkinson's disease)

Seriously, I have no idea why he thought I even had a look of a hooligan.

At that moment, I should be scared. But somehow, yes, somehow, I didn't. So, my best guess is that he thought I had an air of thuggishness given that I didn't look intimidated even though I was clearly outnumbered.

It was just in the heat of the moment that I suddenly became much, much bolder, it even surprised myself now that I've fully recalled the events.

It was sort of a survival instinct that kicked in. Never before I felt like that. But, it was certainly useful all the way.

Back to HOWWOT. So, I knew I was about to be attacked. Clearly outnumbered, Logical Me sprang into action. This was not a time to be fearful, but I made a calculated decision to let him strike first.

I know this sounds crazy, but I decided, under the circumstances at that moment, it was better that I do not strike first. Why? I was outnumbered, and striking first will cause the other diners to perceive it as aggression rather than pre-emptive strike.

As irrationality clouds the logic of the other diners, no one at that moment will perceive it as defense. I took it as such, and decided that, in any case, the law will be on my side if I am not the aggresor. It certainly was amazing that Logical Me comtemplated all these in mere seconds.

Okay, so after the main course and soup, HOWWOT decided to call for a side order.

And so, they pinned me to the bonnet of HOWWOT's car for like 5 seconds or so. Coupled with regular workout, a rush of adrenalin and a decent dose of testosterone, I fend off the idiots like a real man, outnumbered at that. wtf. (Whoa, that's Freddy!)

So there.

I regretted that my left arm was pulled first; I, being right-handed. And the force was of course more than I had anticipated. Nonetheless, yes, nonetheless, I got fought off okay? Thanks to my right arm. Thus, more dumbbell lifting for left arm.

Allow me to digress.

I reckoned that if it's a girl, I doubt she'll be getting up at all. So, for girls, I think it's better to scream, run, and use pepper spray. Not necessarily in that order, but the one thing about pepper spray, not that I used it, is that you might not have the time to use it all. It's pretty much a split second thing. So, depends on the situation.

Drinks are still served remember? Let's continue drinking.

Me: (In my head, what the fuck?) You say I drive too slow, TELL ME HOW FAST YOU DRIVE? You say first, how fast you drive?

Both WWOT and WWT were quiet for a while, but inconveniently sharp all the same. But, I was better.

WWT: You drive slow!

Me: Yes, I did. I might have driven slower than I should, and you obviously drove faster than you should. And obviously, you drive so much faster you couldn't brake in time.

WWT: (Looks agitated, but who the hell cares?) Where you from?

Me: Cannot see my car plate number ar?!

WWT: I mean where are you from, here?

Me: YOU-WANT-TO-KNOW-SO-MUCH-FOR-WHAT?

WWT gets dumbstruck.

The drinks continued to pour, and the other diners were having a mouthful eating with me. No doubt, I'm still going for dessert (figuratively and literally).

And can you imagine, someone actually stopped their car, come down and watch the whole thing? Damn boh liao. I can clearly remember it's a certain national car.

So, it all ended with me settling it off with HOWWOT and WWOT. WWT had left.

• face towel: wiped my mouth clean and threw it at them as they did theirs
• bill: I ate for free (of course)

Another Milestone Erected

Lunch – RM 15.90

Dinner – RM 16.00

Birthday cake – RM 21.10

Birthday present – RM 171.00

Birthday calls, SMSs, MMS, e-mails and friendster messages – Priceless

For everything else, there's love, family and boldness

And so, at 12.01 am, 18 March, I turn 22. Turning 22 has a totally different feeling for me. Part of it dreads getting older. Turning 18, 19, 20, 21 and 22 all felt different.

At 18, there was this feeling of freedom; one foot out to test the waters and see how it was, and another foot still securely in your comfort zone.

At 19, there was this feeling of boldness, ready to take on the world; dreading the end of your teenage years, nevertheless, and entering adulthood, with responsibilities that will soon weigh on your shoulders

At 20, there was this feeling of being in a transition state; no longer a teen, neither an adult. And there's this whole idea that, for the next 10 years, there'll be a '2' in your age.

At 21, there was this feeling of, "Ah, I'm now an adult." Can I now stop getting older?

At 22, there was this feeling of, "Ah, another year has passed." I am still young.

Suffocation

They say that you see flashes of your life flashing before you before you die. Perhaps your first walk. Your first bicycle ride. Your first kiss.

Finally, a blinding white light – and all your consciousness gone before you know it.

No. I didn’t see my life flashing before me. Thank goodness. But I awoke with a start at dawn, unable to breath. I had an excess of mucus in both my nostrils, or so I thought. Armed with a roll of tissue paper, I tried to blow them out. Not much came out, but my nostrils were stuck with, I reckon, a lot of mucus.

I could hardly breathe. It was so bad, at one moment I actually thought I might die of suffocation. No matter how I tried breathing through my nose, the amount of air I inhaled was next to nothing, seeing that my nostrils were almost completely blocked.

Out of desperation, the Logical Me resorted the secondary airway – my mouth. It felt only slightly better, able to bring oxygen into my lungs. But it felt unnatural to breath with my mouth; it was like swimming. I was literally inhaling through my mouth, and exhaling through my mouth and nose, which I thought little came out from the latter. I blew my nose so many times, it hurt.

And one of my greatness weakness is feeling pain.

Instead of lying down, I sat up, making myself uncomfortable, in case I passed out. It didn’t get better. I was still breathing using my mouth.

I decided to lie down because it was too uncomfortable. The thought of getting back to sleep overrided the thought of passing out. I was still breathing using my mouth.

It really felt like suffocation. It was suffocating. I actually thought I was going to die. And I was afraid. And in times like these, a hundred wild thoughts race through my head. Literally. Below are the things that went through my mind, albeit a non-exhaustive list (not in sequence):

1. Might I die and not celebrate my 22nd birthday?
2. This must be what Harry Potter felt like when the effects of the Gillyweed he ate started to wear off in the 2nd task in the Goblet of Fire.
3. Might it be that I have a sinus problem?
4. This is what people who get executed my lethal injection feels like, when the paralysing effects set in.
5. This is probably why prisoners are executed at dawn. So that they won’t see another day break.
6. Would I?
7. I will go to see an ENT specialist in the morning, if I survive.
8. I told myself I am totally conscious and I will not pass out.
9. I will take one day leave. No, work is more important. As if.
10. I will take half-day leave to appear that I really wanted to go to work.
11. How will I survive in a bunny suit if I have a blocked nose?
12. I won’t make it to the next Ezine meeting, to think that the virgin meeting was held just 7 hours ago.
13. I will be a better person if I can breath again.
14. Why is my life plagued with a series of problems? (Just the day before, I was locked out of the room)
15. I remembered pastor’s sermon a fortnight ago. “If there is one thing sure in life, they are: problems.”
16. I reckoned I might have been infect by the avian flu, rampant in certain areas in West Malaysia.
17. I scrapped the idea – couldn’t be, I told myself.
18. Could it be due to swimming backstroke 3 days in a row? Crazy idea.
19. Irrational Me says, “Maybe leh.”
20. Logical Me says “No. Go and lie down.”

And so I did. I laid down. Chucked a pillow under my head and tried to make myself comfortable. I couldn’t. I was still breathing through my mouth, whilst blowing my nose as hard as ever. No significant thing happened, if at all. I was still breathing through my mouth.

I placed two pillows under my head, to tilt it downwards, hoping that mucus might flow out by gravity (what am I thinking?). Nothing happened. I was still breathing through my mouth. It was terrible.

1. I started to appreciate the air and my nose.
2. I started to ponder about life.
3. And how beautiful it was.

It’s crazy, the things you think when you can’t breath. Then, I laid on my right side. I have no idea, how long I laid there. Least I expected, I could suddenly breath through my left nostril.

 

It was such a wonderful feeling. Truly. To feel alive again. To use my nose again. The first intake of air through my left nostril (my right nostril is still blocked) was absolutely refreshing. Air never felt so good. Literally.

 

All of a sudden, I’m thankful for being alive again.

 

This little event, somehow made me reflect a little. The person I am. I choose not to highlight. When I think of my 23 (recalled and recorded) thoughts, those wild thoughts that race through my mind during that suffocating period I feel…a slight tinge of guilt.

 

Suffocation. It has brought me back to life. And to live.