That Time I Got Punched In The Face

No, this is not a real black eye - thanks photo editing!

I figured it was time for something you guys all love - a Lizzie story. And this is one of the top 5. How strange is it that getting punched in the face is only in the top 5, not the top 1? Oh well. All in the life of Lizzie.

Let me start with the cast of characters. Don’t worry - I’m changing the names to protect the innocent:

Me - Ummm…it’s me, guys. You know me.
Brian - My ex-husband
Phil and Sarah - our good friends
Jake - Sarah’s brother (also our friend, but the fact that he’s Sarah’s brother plays more of a role)
Mary - another friend who is very tall (also significant)

SO. Picture this - it’s September 28, 1996 (I looked up AND ACTUALLY FOUND the date) and we were at the Marine Midland Arena to attend the Barenaked Ladies, Goo Goo Dolls and 10,000 Maniacs concert in downtown Buffalo. OK stop. Just stop laughing right now. It was 1996. PLUS, that is the perfect storm of Buffalo treasures right there (even though the Barenaked Ladies are actually from “over the border”). Things as important as the invention of the chicken wing and the history of President McKinley’s assassination. And, in my defense, I wasn’t there to see the Goo Goo Dolls. I was there for the Barenaked Ladies who are HILARIOUS in concert. So evs, h8ers.

Let me start by saying that at the time of this story, I am 23 years old - a married adult. This only makes what happens more ridiculous. And also makes me realize that I am developmentally challenged. And that, deep inside, I am a total douche. Or I was at one point in time. That time being September 28, 1996.

It all began rather innocently. We got floor tickets (Ummm….WE WANTED TO THROW POWDERED CHEESE WHEN THEY SAID KRAFT DINNER, YOU GUYS!) and were just standing around waiting for the show to get on the road. Before it started, Mary and I decided to go get a drink. A non-alcoholic drink. I didn’t really drink back then (I know, right?). Unless it was a wine cooler. This story is getting more and more embarrassing by the second and I haven’t even gotten to the ”good part” yet. Anyway, in the line to get drinks, we were behind these two girls who were, quite frankly, super irritating. Well, the one was. She was one of those tough girls who just seemed like a real blowhole and she was being a total jerk to her friend. She was just being a jerk generally. She also seemed like she was on something. (In hindsight, maybe Angel Dust?) Anyway, she was bossing around her friend whose name was Jill. I can’t believe I actually remember her name, but I do. So, I guess I should have added Jill to the cast of characters. Oh well. And since I don’t remember the blowhole’s name, I’ll just call her Wanda because she seemed like she had a lot of “class.” (If your name is Wanda, please forgive me.) And for some reason, Mary and I just got a real bad taste in our mouths about Wanda. But whatever. I probably found 1,000 other people who irritated me on my way back to the arena floor. I’m easily irritated.

When we got back to our group, we notice that Wanda and Jill were standing pretty much in front of us. The arena floor wasn’t packed, so there was a few feet (or as we soon realized, a leg length) in between us.

This is where it gets good (or bad). For some reason, Mary and I thought it would be HIGH-larious to kick Wanda in the butt. Not like punt her in the butt, but like nudge her. With our feet. So, one of us did it (I’m sure it was me) and she whipped her head back towards us and we were all this. And, like any 12-year old boys (or 23-year old girls?), we thought it was the funniest thing ever. So we did it SEVERAL more times.

Of course, with each kick, Wanda was getting angrier and angrier (duh). Finally, after what would fatefully turn out to be the last kick, she spun around and for some reason HONED IN on Jake. I have no idea why. He was pretty far down the line and COMPLETELY oblivious to the entire thing. I guess she didn’t like the look of him or something. So she WINGNUTTED over there, got right up in his face and just started losing it (Angel Dust style). Even though he was just standing there, minding his own business. Well, when Sarah caught sight of this, she got all scrappy intending to stick up for her brother and Phil had to bear hug her to keep her from getting involved, resulting in scratch marks on his forearms from Sarah’s struggle to get away. In the meantime, Mary, who is practically 6 feet tall, had ducked for cover behind Brian, leaving all of my 5′ 2″ self to stand on my own. I, realizing the nightmare I’d just created, decided to step out into the melee and say something to the effect of “Hey, hey. This isn’t anything to fight about.” (My equivalent of “Can’t we all just get along,” I guess).

And then Jill walked up to me. And I was all “Phew, Jill” in my head because…Jill’s a pushover. Unfortunately for me, I did not read Jill’s character very well because she walked right up to me and shoved me. Like this. Only I didn’t fall down. Instead something came over me. Rage? Stupidity? Who knows. But I proceeded to shove her right back. And she shoved me again, so I brilliantly shoved her back. Again. And then…she grabbed me by the neck and punched me directly in the eye. When my head returned to its normal position, I IMMEDIATELY burst into laughter. I mean, it all escalated so quickly. HOW DID IT GET TO THIS SO QUICKLY?? And Jill, being the pansy that she was, had already run away. I say that like I would have brought on the hurt (I totally would (not) have). The goose egg started forming right away and she obviously had some sort of ring on because she also cut my face above my eyebrow. My friends were all horrified. Of course, Brian missed it all. I went up to him and was all “Ummm….that girl just punched me in the face.” And he was all “Wha???” Well played, Brian.

Oh, but the story doesn’t end there. Just like now, I worked in a law office at the time. Which meant I had to show up to work the next day WITH A SHINER! One of the partners pulled me into her office and was telling me I should go to the police and file a report. Of course, there was no way I was going to do that. I’D HAVE TO ADMIT THAT I WAS KICKING THE GIRL!!!! And that I’m pretty much a juvenile delinquent (emphasis on juvenile). And I couldn’t admit that to anyone (until now, I guess).

My favorite part of the story - the attorney I worked for directly also walked in the office that day with a black eye. HA!!!! The height of class and sophistication we were. Two crazy kids, taking on the law in search of justice. Or defending insurance companies in lawsuits. Either/or.

So there you have it. That time I got punched in the face. At least I now know I can take a hit. And…you’re welcome.