Neither can i remember why i was reminded of it to retell it this particular morning but it does go to show you why you should not mess with this rampaging librarian (or perhaps not get her to rampaging in the first place...)
Back upon my early college years. I'm attending an opening night party for one of the acting showcase shows. I'm extremely drunk. I feel compelled to approach the lead actor and tell him just how excellent i believed his performance to be that particular evening. So i go up to him, shake his hand, and as i remember it, we were chatting quite pleasantly. I vaguely remember the conversation somehow evolving into something having to do with women in pornography films but i don't remember taking any particular offence to any such conversation.
The next thing i do remember is Mr. LeadActor swaying in front of me, splattering blood all over my shirt, then passing out, while multiple people are pulling me back and telling me to calm down. I have never remembered delivering the knockout punch it was reported that i did. I remember wanting to go talk to Mr. LeadActor, who was lying down in the next room, and everyone telling me it wasn't a good idea. I remember everyone telling me how great i was for standing up for women's rights. I remember having no clue what was going on. And i remember the one guy who seemed to have any sensitivity for the loss and confusion i was going through who took me in the bathroom to help me wash the blood out of my shirt.
Flash forward a couple of years, when drunk again, i again knock out a guy with one punch. Again i don't remember the punch. At least this time i remember the offense. Not taking no for an answer.
Interestingly enough, Mr. LeadActor always saw me as someone he wanted to date after i punched him out. I guess i was his kind of woman. Colour me Shy.