Story of my yoots

This week, is a story that I hold dear to my hart, mostly because it involves the day that I met one of the coolest, (If not a little insane), Friends.

It starts with my move from Utah to Washington State. (For people who hate America, or just don't want to take the time to look at a map that's really dry place to one of the most humid places ever.) Which happened mid summer, also allowing me to have an extra week of summer vacation. Hells yeah different school cycles!

Anyways, for the first week or so I was too scared to actually meet and talk to people, until that one fateful day. A kid in my class decided to approach me. He stared me down old western style, and when I finally asked him "what" I was greeted with a sharp pain in the back of my head. The bastard hit me, he approached me to hit me in the back of the head. This was his goal, to cause a mild annoyance to some stranger. That day recess was the usual, standing about pondering the day, and other mindless things.

Then by the end of the day, the annoyance had become full blown rage. We both walked home, I caught him walking and followed him, yelling the whole way. Apparently I looked like I was some kind of evil fueled hate machine. (That is according to him.) Once we arrived at his front door I took a moment to gather myself. I was going to tell his parents of the unjust actions taken upon me.

When I knocked on the door, his mother peered out and asked if she could help me. (I'm assuming at this point the perpetrator had already informed his parents that some crazy kid followed him home, and was going to try and get him in trouble.) Dutifully I announced to her what had transpired.

Me: Your son hit me in class today.

Parent: Did he? I'm sorry to hear that. Would you like to come in?

Me: ...

Parent: I've got some chips and popcorn. Or some lemonade if you would like.

Me: Sure.

And so with the offer of food and beverage I entered. For some reason my rage had entirely dissipated I was now at peace with the actions taken against me. I followed her in, and she then directed me her child. I saw him Sitting in front of his Television, playing his SNES game system, without a second thought I walked to him and sat down. I feasted on my rewards of Bugles and Lemonade, and played video games.

That was twelve years ago. Through one random act of violence I have forged a friendship that has forged many friendships through the ages. My thanks go out to you, you crazy bastard. So lesson learned? Violence is good. Don't let you parents tell you otherwise.