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Some people maintain that it's not easy to catch lightning in a bottle twice.
I call bullshit.
All those folks who whip out their bottles at the slightest roll of thunder are going about the process all wrong. You have to be more active. You gotta grab that lightning around the throat* and squeeze tight or else that bitch is gonna get away...
That's my theory at least. And I should know, because last night -- for the second time in my life -- I managed to find myself being put in a headlock by a total stranger.
It's been about 5 years since my first "armpit hug". I had just moved in to RLH and was slowly but surely getting to know my fellow dorm residents via the RLH Bar. One fateful Thursday, I was sitting on a barstool, minding my own business, when all of sudden this guy (who had earlier been sucking on the stocking-clad toes of M.R.) came up behind me, put me in a headlock and started screaming, "I'm going to break your neck!!!" Naturally, I was like, "What the fuck?!" and kind of just flailed my arms wildly until someone got him off of me.**
It's the kind of experience where you're like, "Ok, let's not ever do that again."
(Click below for more)
However, that was not to be the case.
Last night, I was supposed to meet up with Andre and S.A.M. III at the latter's apartment around 11pm so that we could go to a nearby club to listen to some reggae. I was running late (real late), since I was forced to take the U-Bahn (subway) to Sternschanze instead of the S-Bahn (rapid-transit train?) to Holstenstrasse...the problem being I only know the way to S.A.M.'s apartment from Holstenstrasse.***
I sent Andre a text message to tell him that I would just meet them at the club and since he didn't respond, I assumed that was the new plan. But when I got to the club and went inside, I didn't see them. I thought maybe they hadn't left S.A.M's as yet...so I walk to his place and ring. No answer.
At this point, I was getting a bit miffed. I walked back to the club, took another look around. Still, no sign of those two cockbags...
Unfortunately, I used the last bit of money on my pre-paid cell phone to send Andre the text message. Fortunately, across the street, there was a pay phone that accepted coins. I gave him a ring, he informed me that they were on their way, and I went back to the entrance of the club to wait.
Out of the corner of one eye, I see Andre and S.A.M. approaching. Out of the corner of the other eye****, I notice this CrazyGuy walking my way. I thought he was going to keep walking by, but no...he saddles up beside me and puts his arm over my shoulder, just at the exact moment when Andre and S.A.M. arrive.
I tried to free myself from CrazyGuy's grip, but found that he wasn't budging. So now, I've got one guy around my neck and two other guys standing there just looking on as I'm struggling. This partially struck me as amusing...but mostly really fucking annoying, because as I bend down to try to slip under CrazyGuy's arm, I (once again) find myself in a headlock.
I think Andre and S.A.M. may have been smiling; however, I don't know because, like I said, I was bent over and in a headlock...
Finally, I managed to get loose. I promtly punch Andre in the shoulder saying, "Thanks for the assist, dude."
To which he responds, "Well, when you're smiling, how do I know you need help?"
*Insert "WHAT?!" in manner of Lil' Jon here*
But before we can get into it further, CrazyGuy grabs me again and makes the oh-so-romantic comment, "I like your ass" -- I push him away, but he gets a hold of my arm...which finally sends my Kevin Costner into action.
Cue Music: "And IIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-eeeeeeeeIIIIIIIIIII..."
Andre totally defended my honor...and S.A.M. was quite the good wingman holding him back from clocking CrazyGuy. Meanwhile, I stood there and prayed that CrazyGuy didn't have a knife.
Because, it's like my mom always said, you never know who's got a knife.*****
I suppose the most disturbing thing about the whole incident, is that now I can't help but think that I'm either, A.) a woman that people see and just automatically want to put in a headlock or (much worse) B.) a woman that looks like she likes to be put in headlocks.
So, I would just like to state for the record, that regardless of whatever sexual proclivities I might have...asphyxiation is not one of them. I rather enjoy breathing and oxygen and such.
And, for future reference, if you happen to be hanging out with me and some crazy motherfucker tries to go all WWE on me...by all means...lend me a hand.
*= It's metaphorical throat, of course.
**= And this is the story of my first encounter with SchlimmWarsi, who's actually pretty cool -- insane, but cool.
***= This is pretty useless information unless you're A.) familiar with Hamburg B.) familiar with my really bad sense of direction.
****= My peripheral vision is the shit
*****= And she should know, she's got a gang of knives
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