I should tell you right up front that I am not a violent person by nature and generally do not condone such behavior from others.
…but sometimes things just happen unintentionally. That doesn’t make them any more OK though. Perhaps I should get into the story and you’ll get what I mean.
One Saturday night at University, several of my friends were sitting in one of the lounges talking about various things. All the good university stories come when you’ve done all your work and actually have free time. One of my friends, who we will call Virgil, suddenly decides he wants to cook up some spaghetti, so he goes off to his room to get some.
Now, you should know a few things about Virgil for context’s sake. Virgil was my roommate that particular year. I thought I was a messy person until I met him. Most people would store stuff semi neatly in drawers or their dresser, Virgil did that, but he ran out of room so he would pile all of his stuff, everything he was working on, owned, or was in the process of eating into a huge mountain on the floor beside his bed. I had to keep things neat on my side of the room just so we could get out the door. There was a visible thick line of brown dirt that clearly…or not so clearly dictated where he thought his side of the room began and my side ended. We took a picture of it once, but I will save you the grief.
This was the environment over which Virgil was forced, by his own doing, to traverse in order to retrieve his highly desired spaghetti. He found it quite quickly, considering the circumstances I just described, and returned to where all the action was.
Virgil enters the room triumphantly, holding the wad of stiff, uncooked spaghetti in his hand, instead of just bringing the bag with him. He then proceeds to hit me with it. He didn’t hit hard, but after about 5 seconds of it I was getting bored of his Knight antics so I came up with a plan to make him lose his balance and sweep his feet out from under him, like you see in those ninja movies so that he might stop it.
Unfortunately, I discovered that I am not blessed with that kind of coordination. What I ended up doing was just stomping on his toes. I thought he was a little farther away from me than he was, and who wears flip flops in the winter? But I honestly didn’t mean to hurt him like that. However, he did stop whipping me with the spaghetti and decided to cook it after a few minutes of recuperating from the accident, so either way I had accomplished my objective.