Cussedness Corner

"My work may be garbage but it's good garbage." Mickey Spillane

I Didn’t Exactly Hit Her

A couple of days ago, I had an encounter with Danielle. I had not met her yet, although I had heard about her and been awakened in the night by her rampaging on the second floor of the building. I live on the first floor.

had warned me to lock my door that Danielle was drinking again. I leave my door unlocked during the day because dwerenat comes and goes, visiting and such, thoroughout the day. My response was that she would do well to avoid me.

A few hours later, I heard her raging in the foyer of the building and I heard Lena make a distressed squeaking noise. Lena is a tiny lady in her late 60s. I emerged from my apartment to find that Danielle had cornered her and her two grand kids, who I think are around twelve and thirteen. Matt, the twelve-year-old, gave me a beseeching look and said “That’s Danielle and she won’t leave my grandmother alone.”

Well that did it. I interposed myself between Lena and Danielle (who looks to be either in her late 20s or early 30s). Lena and her grandkids were then able to escape into her son’s apartment.

Danielle spun about drunkenly and grabbed me. That was the wrong thing to do. My reflexes are still good. I brought both of my arms up under hers in a move that became ingrained when I was young and studying martial arts. It’s probably one of the few reflexes I have left at my age. But I brought them up and out, striking her grasp loose with my forearms and knocked her six feet. She hit the wall hard.

She got a strange kind of wary look in her eyes and informed me that if I beat her up god would punish me.

Then came halfway down the stairs from the second floor, leaned over the balustrade and yelled at Danielle, “Touch her and I’ll beat your head in.”

At that point it must have gotten through to Danielle that she was outnumbered because she ran (or staggered as she was quite drunk) back upstairs to her apartment.

Once she sobered up the next day, Danielle had no memory of the encounter.


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This entry was posted on March 27, 2008 by in Janrae Frank.

Janrae Frank

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