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Friday, October 10, 2003

milk shakes and bloody knuckles

We were driving to Steak and Shake for a late night bonanza of calories and saturated fats yesterday, Rahul my roommate in the driver seat and me riding shotgun with a Lactaid pill in my pocket. I can't digest lactose, a chemical in most milk-products, but with this pill (which contains the enzyme that digests lactose) I greedily ordered a chocolate milk shake from our waiter, vindictively mocking the Gods of Lactose-Intolerance.

Eating so much so late, I knew I was going to have nightmares so it was no surprise later on in deep sleep when I heard violent yells and vicious screams from all around. But the dream started to become too realistic to believe. I woke up, got up, and looked outside my window, groggily staring down at what was apparently a fist-fight between two guys who wanted to "settle things like men." The hooting and hollering of each of their groups of homies eventually transformed into astounded silence while the irregularity of loud thuds and smacks, fists flying about, skin-smacking and pounding gradually turned into a steadily repetitive, gruesome thumping noise. One guy was obviously beating the shit out of the other, and although I couldn't see but only hear all that was going on, it was obviously time to stop the fight.

The more physically wounded of these two victims of aggression was pulled to his feet by his friends. I finally caught a glimpse of him as he walked into sight of my window and off into the early morning night.

"Fuck dude, I'm going to need to get stitches for these bloody knuckles," he said, and I went back to sleep.

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