Drama! Drama! Drama! And, not even the good kind that's fun to gossip about.
Yesterday started out with Warren and I going on a walk and finding a twelve year old boy, covered in blood, walking down the road who had just been beaten up by his father. The boy is in state custody now, but who knows what will happen to him in the future. The situation we dealt with broke my heart into little pieces. That's all I'm going to say about it, except WHAT KIND OF TOSSER BEATS UP HIS CHILD?
It ended with Warren and I going to a birthday party for one of our friends at a bar in St. Petersburg and Warren getting attacked by some random drunk guy. We were talking with our friend's parents and her aunt jokingly waived a glow stick in front of this guy's face. Apparently, he thought it was Warren because he turned around, grabbed Warren by the neck and shoved him into a column inside the bar. Within seconds Warren had the guy in some kung-foo throat grip on the floor, so no punches were thrown. I, of course, was freaking out like the enormous baby that I am, convinced that someone was going to die (I'm a bit dramatic when it comes to violence). I should have felt relieved to know that my husband can definitely defend himself without hurting the other person (Warren just placed the guy on the floor and held him in a grip so he couldn't throw punches), but the event still put me into hysterics. Drunk guy eventually was told what had happened and apologized to Warren, but seriously, WHO REACTS LIKE THAT? You get a glow stick waved in your face and you automatically think to turn around to attack someone? What variety of testosterone supplements was he taking?
Then, to add color to the evening, there was the drunk Vietnam vet who I was mean to (and I still feel guilty about) because he would not leave us alone outside the bar while I was trying to calm down. He wasn't asking for money, just muttering incoherent sentences and not picking up on obvious social cues to go the hell away. And, finally, on our way home we saw a car on the freeway that was about to lose its rear left wheel. I told Warren I couldn't handle a fatal car accident on top of everything else, so to please hurry and find another route home before the car in front swerved out of control.
Sometimes I am really grateful that I don't get out much these days...
7 comments:
Ok, that is a crazy day. I feel so sad for that little boy. And maybe you and Warren should move back to Utah!
Dang!!! That is a crazy day. That is way too many emotions for a pregnant lady to handle!! Deep breaths woman!
You totally make me laugh reading your posts... they are great.
Oh Katie, this is all because you live in a crazy state called Florida! MOVE BACK HOME! OREGON! Everyone here is calm. Chris tells me crazy stories about Florida when he was a kid. I can't imagine it's gotten any better. Anywho, I'm glad you saved a little boy along the way, you will be seriously blessed for that. Love ya, Miss ya!
Yeah, Florida is made up of crack heads.
Holy crap! What a ridiculous evening. Can I just tell you that I hate bars? I've been to only a few in my life and have felt so icky and grossed out every time. Good thing your husband is a buff dude (I don't actually know 'cause I've never met him, but he sound like he is).
I asked him where he learned how to do that and he said "I read it in a book once." Yeah, whatever, he's totally a secret agent.
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