Friday, October 9, 2015

91: my one and only fist fight, which happened at CBGB's of course, where else?

I told this story a long time ago. It is a really entertaining one about my one and only fist fight.

It happened, classically, at CBGB's. I was in my twenties and I casually slept one time with some guy, who, I did not know at the time, or maybe I did but I did not care, happened to be some lady's boyfriend (I won't name names but she was a bit famous. Alas there I go again protecting the guilty again). I had gone to see Dramarama, a band that Clem Berke, the Blondie drummer, was drumming in. I had on dirty white tight leather pants that I loved and a black wool ski cap, ala Wayne County, a signature style of mine. I also happened to be wearing a big gold ring that was a tiny replica of the iconic Robert Indiana LOVE sculpture, “LO” on top of “VE”. During the show I overheard the girlfriend ask some guy if I was Holly, not a great sign. Later when I went down to the bathroom, she followed me down and started verbally attacking me, yelling at me something about (uhhhh, I cringe as I type this word, it is so vulgar, and of course was her issue, not mine) “crotch rot”, yikes. She was big and scary and relentless, “whaddaya do? Go around sleeping with people’s boyfriends? Did ya give him crotch rot?” “blah blah blah” on and on. I was alone down there in the cbgb’s bathroom hell, like a prehistoric cave cut from stone and used as an outhouse, and I was a bit scared as she blocked the only exit. But I managed to say the only thing I could think of in a quiet but very snotty voice, trying really hard to look too cool to care “You know what I do? I do whatever I want.” I walked past her back up to watch the band and I figured that was that.

When the band was over, I want outside and she came at me again with the yelling so I turned away from her and she pushed me! I asked her to keep her hands off of me and she pushed me again so I turned to her in a real OH-NO-YOU-DI-N’T moment! Instinctively, without thought, I did the only thing there was to do, I fought back. I put my whole self into it and threw a scrappy punch with my pre-yoga puny arm.  And holy mother of god I landed it on her face and my beautiful Robert Indiana Love ring cut her face and drew blood.

My father had taught me to fight as a kid and he always said to go for the nose because it bleeds easily and blood scares people. I never planned to use his wisdom. A few people who knew both of us were standing around and were aware that the woman was yelling at me and was much bigger than me. As soon as I hit her, this guy Ricky pulled her away and stopped the hideous event. People were calming her down as she was howling about my ring and the cut on her face. I went around the corner with an ex boyfriend and cried. Clearly i had "won" the fight, but I just needed to discharge the big feelings. I was cramping the ex’s style, as he wanted to be out a rockclub wheeling and dealing but he tried to act nice. He called me a cab to get rid of me and i went home.

As for the guy, who was the cause of all this mayhem and was certainly not worth fighting over, I had hooked up with at one of the GREENDOOR parties I threw. I, being the swimming pool lover that I am, happened to find a space in the east village, new york, where someone had an above ground swimming pool in the concrete back yard of his tenement apartment where we could have pool parties. I remember going to breakfast after the party with him and some of my friends. I went home with him as the sun came up and together we peeled me out of a still wet chlorine smelling bathing suit in the bed. Then I forgot about him until the incident occurred. Ah, the good old days.

The day after the fight I stormed into the record store he worked at. I am not sure what I thought that would accomplish but I was furious that he had made trouble and involved me, set me up really, and that I had to defend myself as a result. He saw my fury charging at him and from across the room he said that this was not the time or the place.  So I said in my too cool to care voice so that the entire store could hear, “You disgust me.” And he was history.

Epilogue: Years later the guy married someone I knew casually. The incident was water under the bridge to me, no hard feelings.

The crazy part is that the woman came up to me years later and apologized! Again water under the bridge, no hard feelings.

And me, I’m just thrilled to have gotten everything I might have ever thought of doing out of my system so I can just be here now in my beautiful life with no regrets.

Defend yourself. Get the bullshit out of your system and live your beautiful life to the fullest, my friends.

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