Okay, so I decided to repent my sins since I don't wanna be stuck on post #666 forever, (see: http://forums.azbilliards.com/showthread.php?t=102592)
However (and unfortunately) my diabolic behavior have continued after my repentance; believe it or not, the following happened to me last Monday when my fellow pool buddy Jay and I were down at Stanford's Tressidder for lunch: Just when I had paid for my food, I could hear someone close-by being very loud. Unfortunately, there were only empty seats at the very same table where this loud person was sitting. You guessed it; he was on his cellphone. Anyhow, I had no other choice than to sit down at the same table, but decided to sit as far away as possible just to avoid being part of his conversation. Anyhow, Jay came and sat down next to me, and also he was bothered by this loud cellblabber. Then I did something which I now deeply regret -- I walked over to this guy, who is in his early sixties, (it turned out that he's this very "prominent" visiting professor in physics from MIT). I asked him if he would please go outside or perhaps could at least lower his voice. I might have sounded a little rude (as always). Anyhow, this old fart looks at me with this very demeaning look, and says something like; "Why don't YOU go outside". Ok, that was it. I took aim at his cheek and launched my fist as hard as I could. Unfortunately he managed to slightly duck down, so I hit him right in his nose... and I'm telling you; hitting that nose-bone hurt -- I thought I would pass out from the pain it caused, (real fist-fights are nothing like in the movies... at least now I know that). Jay rushed over to break us apart... even if there was nothing to break up; the old dude was bent over in his chair and I was jumping around holding my fist. Not long after I was brought down to the Sheriff's office in HANDCUFFS. Had to give statements (or whatever it's called) and was then booked for the night. I called my parents in Norway who helped me with the bail-money. So far it's only my mother who is standing up for me (though she is "a little surprised that you would do something like that.."). Even old ex (who was the first I called), said that she has seen this coming for quite some time, and that I never seem to learn... that I should have listened to her bla bla-ha (i.e. no support from her). Anyhow, yesterday the Stanford Daily had a big blurb about it, and of course they had to get their facts wrong; they didn't mention anything about that this guy was loud on his cellphone, and even worse, they said that I was a musician(!) and spelled my name; Peer Lamda. For the last few days I've been calling around for a lawyer. I'm told that this professor, Pascal Picotte (tell me; who doesn't deserve to be beaten up with a name like that?!), is getting some powerful legal advisors and is now prepared to raise legal-hell at my expense. Anyhow, earlier today I went with Jack (my Irish Ducati friend) to the San Carlos gun-store where I put down some money on a new snub-nose 357, and hopefully I'll get it as soon as the background-check & waiting-period is over. If you have any experience with this, or even know whether the criminal-records are logged before the trial or after a conviction -- let me know. In any case, Jack says that he'll help me out getting this gun, because he agrees that this Pascal dude needs to know how rude it is to be loud on a cellphone.
Well... actually, the disclaimer here is that the only thing that happened was that we were sitting next to a table with a loud cellphone-user. The wimp I am, I wouldn't even dare asking him to pass the salt, (but I had my brave thoughts though...)
-- peer
However (and unfortunately) my diabolic behavior have continued after my repentance; believe it or not, the following happened to me last Monday when my fellow pool buddy Jay and I were down at Stanford's Tressidder for lunch: Just when I had paid for my food, I could hear someone close-by being very loud. Unfortunately, there were only empty seats at the very same table where this loud person was sitting. You guessed it; he was on his cellphone. Anyhow, I had no other choice than to sit down at the same table, but decided to sit as far away as possible just to avoid being part of his conversation. Anyhow, Jay came and sat down next to me, and also he was bothered by this loud cellblabber. Then I did something which I now deeply regret -- I walked over to this guy, who is in his early sixties, (it turned out that he's this very "prominent" visiting professor in physics from MIT). I asked him if he would please go outside or perhaps could at least lower his voice. I might have sounded a little rude (as always). Anyhow, this old fart looks at me with this very demeaning look, and says something like; "Why don't YOU go outside". Ok, that was it. I took aim at his cheek and launched my fist as hard as I could. Unfortunately he managed to slightly duck down, so I hit him right in his nose... and I'm telling you; hitting that nose-bone hurt -- I thought I would pass out from the pain it caused, (real fist-fights are nothing like in the movies... at least now I know that). Jay rushed over to break us apart... even if there was nothing to break up; the old dude was bent over in his chair and I was jumping around holding my fist. Not long after I was brought down to the Sheriff's office in HANDCUFFS. Had to give statements (or whatever it's called) and was then booked for the night. I called my parents in Norway who helped me with the bail-money. So far it's only my mother who is standing up for me (though she is "a little surprised that you would do something like that.."). Even old ex (who was the first I called), said that she has seen this coming for quite some time, and that I never seem to learn... that I should have listened to her bla bla-ha (i.e. no support from her). Anyhow, yesterday the Stanford Daily had a big blurb about it, and of course they had to get their facts wrong; they didn't mention anything about that this guy was loud on his cellphone, and even worse, they said that I was a musician(!) and spelled my name; Peer Lamda. For the last few days I've been calling around for a lawyer. I'm told that this professor, Pascal Picotte (tell me; who doesn't deserve to be beaten up with a name like that?!), is getting some powerful legal advisors and is now prepared to raise legal-hell at my expense. Anyhow, earlier today I went with Jack (my Irish Ducati friend) to the San Carlos gun-store where I put down some money on a new snub-nose 357, and hopefully I'll get it as soon as the background-check & waiting-period is over. If you have any experience with this, or even know whether the criminal-records are logged before the trial or after a conviction -- let me know. In any case, Jack says that he'll help me out getting this gun, because he agrees that this Pascal dude needs to know how rude it is to be loud on a cellphone.
Well... actually, the disclaimer here is that the only thing that happened was that we were sitting next to a table with a loud cellphone-user. The wimp I am, I wouldn't even dare asking him to pass the salt, (but I had my brave thoughts though...)
-- peer
