http://slog.thestranger.com/slog/archives/2012/12/07/have-you-ever-thrown-a-drink-in-someones-face Comments On: Have You Ever Thrown a Drink in Someone's Face? by Megan Seling en-us Copyright 2013 The Stranger. All rights reserved. This RSS file is offered to individuals, The Stranger readers, and non-commercial organizations only. Any commercial websites wishing to use this RSS file, please contact The Stranger. webmaster@thestranger.com (The Stranger Webmaster) Thu, 20 Jun 2013 00:00:01 -0700 Thu, 20 Jun 2013 00:15:00 -0700 Foundation http://blogs.law.harvard.edu/tech/rss Posted by Sad Wife]]> Tue, 19 Mar 2013 18:31:12 -0700 The Stranger Posted by zjoduck]]> Mon, 17 Dec 2012 11:15:57 -0800 The Stranger Posted by songbird85]]> Sun, 16 Dec 2012 08:05:30 -0800 The Stranger Posted by this guy I know in Spokane]]> Mon, 10 Dec 2012 16:07:25 -0800 The Stranger
I once dumped a drink on someone--a random popped-collar jock with a baseball cap just so on his head, who thought it would be funny to grab my ass hard enough to leave a bruise while I was in a crowded bar in Iowa City. His beloved hat got knocked to the floor and his polo was soaked with, if I recall correctly, whiskey and cola. And then the bouncer kicked him out.
Posted by Griffin]]> Sun, 09 Dec 2012 22:38:41 -0800 The Stranger Posted by yucca flower]]> Sat, 08 Dec 2012 14:46:34 -0800 The Stranger Posted by Looking For a Better Read]]> Sat, 08 Dec 2012 09:55:25 -0800 The Stranger Second story: Another friend had a falling out with her sister. We were at a club, and my friend was upset that her sister had turned up. My friend revealed to me that her sister called my boyfriend the N-word. Already fueled with liquid courage, I took the pitcher of beer my friend and I were sharing, walked over to friend's sister, and dumped the pitcher over her head. We scuffled but I quickly exited the club and hailed a cab.
Stupid youth and twenties. Such drama.
Posted by Beer In Love And War]]> Sat, 08 Dec 2012 00:14:59 -0800 The Stranger
Every year I host a Super Bowl party. In the invite I used to put a warning that the party was not for the timid. Things could get pretty wild and the language was sure to offend. This party was the one time of the year that my brother Brad and I would really let loose. One year my brother started a small food fight in my basement. Another year we had fun breaking bottles. Not in a hostile way I assure you—there is no arguing or fighting at my parties. No, we broke bottles for fun. Like most wild events someone was bound to go and ruin things. Little did I know that person would be me.

My liquor of choice that day was tequila. I started out with a few beers to coat my stomach. It wasn’t long before I was walking around the party with a tray full of shots, limes and salt; trying to get as many people as I could to take a tequila shot. During the third round I ended up in front of my brother’s good friend Bill. He wouldn’t take a shot with me, and I wouldn’t take no for an answer. It was a Mexican standoff. I don’t know why but I thought it would be a good idea to throw the shot in his face. For some reason Bill didn’t go to the next five or six parties.

From there things just got worse. I stood on my deck throwing bottles against the rocks on our hill. Apparently when my brother isn’t breaking bottles with me it’s not fun. Well, at least that’s what people told me.

It was around that time that I took off running and did a back flip into my hot tub; which was full of people. Nobody was happy with that move. They were yelling things like, “You could have broken your neck you idiot!” In my mind they were high-fiving me.

Later that evening after everyone left, I was lying on the couch watching TV with my brother and my roommate. For some reason I didn’t feel very well. Probably something I ate. My brother looked at me with displeasure; got up off the couch, walked over and slapped me hard across my face. Without saying a word he walked back over to his seat and continued to watch TV. What makes this funny now is because my family is very passive. At the time I didn’t see the humor in it.

A few weeks later I was listening to Howard Stern. At one point in the show Howard chastised Ronnie-the-limo-driver for disrespecting guests at a block party Ronnie helped throw. Howard let Ronnie have it for a solid half hour. He ripped him up one end and out the other, but it felt like Howard was talking to me. I pulled my car over and sat like a boy getting punished in the principles office. “What the hell were you thinking?’ What the hell indeed? I vowed right then and there never to drink tequila at a party again.
Posted by MarkusTaylor]]> Fri, 07 Dec 2012 17:56:10 -0800 The Stranger Posted by aardvark]]> Fri, 07 Dec 2012 17:31:47 -0800 The Stranger Cool story, bro.
You both sound like mature and well-adjusted adults.
Posted by Wait, seriously?]]> Fri, 07 Dec 2012 15:50:28 -0800 The Stranger Posted by julie russell]]> Fri, 07 Dec 2012 15:45:08 -0800 The Stranger Posted by Estey]]> Fri, 07 Dec 2012 15:05:36 -0800 The Stranger
M, are you reading?

Flowers, circa 2004. Having a drink with a perpetual friend of friends, someone I could never quite click with. I concede a sensitive secret- that I have the hots big-time for her best friend, a renown beauty. In fact, I was secretly dating her friend at the time (fucking, living with, the works). She looks at me and laughs in my face and says "Do you know how many guys are in line to date X??" (I did, as I'd known X for years. But it was my time damnit.) So this just basically pressed my button, hard. I proceeded to tell her what I've wanted to say for a long time but never articulated. I looked her in the eye across the table and told her, calmly the first time, "M, you are a fucking bitch." Then my calm eroded a bit because it felt so good to say. The next one was more stern. "M. You are a fucking BITCH." God that felt good. One more time. "M. You are a FUCKING BITCH."

About 2 seconds passed, eye to eye stare down. Next thing I knew I had a full pint of Elysian in my face. Hmm. Confusion. So I threw me full pint of water in her face. Walked out. Started the walk back to the Hill, but luckily a friend was driving by with his girlfriend and picked me up. A girlfriend he stole from me, but that's another story and no drinks were thrown in that one.

M, if you are reading, hope you are well. I definitely am!
Posted by aardvark]]> Fri, 07 Dec 2012 14:40:13 -0800 The Stranger
In September of 1995, I was living in Tampa, because I was a 23 year old moron. I moved there to be with a girl who was cheating on me with both another man and a woman. And she was doing heroin. (Proof that I was a moron: I was more bothered by the cheating.) We lived with her mom.

It was a typical co-dependant psychological warfare kind of relationship. Which means that every now and again, things were great. She loved me and wouldn't shut up about it. I felt loved. And everybody was happy. Until her next outburst. One night, she showed up at my workplace to claim her car from me, which she needed to go score some drugs. The security guard in the building couldnt find me at first because I was in the bathroom, so I was late getting word that she was waiting for me at the front desk. When I got there, she served me a verbal dressdown and name calling combo platter in front of this guard. I gave her the keys while constantly apologizing for... I don't know. Going to the bathroom I guess. When I got back to my desk, I was suddenly angry. I'd been angry a lot of the time we were together. It was what we did.

I left work a few hours early and made it back to her mom's house. The girl wasn't there, still off scoring drugs. I had calmed down some and, when she came home, I decided to have a nice friendly talk with her. I walked down the hall to her room -- oh, yeah, even though we were dating, we had to have separate rooms, not because of her mom but because she was into control and mind games -- and when I saw her sitting on her bed, the calm that had come over me vanished. And for the first time in our nine month long relationship/war/whatever it was, I screamed at her. I yelled at her that if she ever tried embarrassing me in front of people like that, I was leaving. (Again, I didn't even yell at her when she cheated on me with various people. I just cried a lot.)

Anyhow, at first she cowered in fear (which made me feel like an asshole for about half a second) then she tried to kick me. (She had hit me a couple of weeks before when I called her out on her heroin habit. I did not hit back because I'm no dummy, just a punching bag.) I had a glass of water in my hand. I threw the contents -- but not the glass -- at her. It hit her right in the face. She jumped up, grabbed a stick or broomhandle of some sort and started chasing me down the hall, swinging it madly and screaming about how she was sorry and she just wanted to come home and be nice to me and how dare I get mad at her, and then she starts crying and her mom has to comfort her saying that she's not such a bad person and she's been doing better (because mom had no idea she was just out scoring heroin in a neighborhood where, a month previous, three teenagers were shot to death over a dime bag of marijuana.) I felt like a real jerk because I... well, I don't know. It was such a twisted, horrible relationship. Thankfully, I have never had one like it since.

I moved back home a couple of weeks later. Never did marry that girl, either.
Posted by Jason Josephes]]> Fri, 07 Dec 2012 14:10:11 -0800 The Stranger
I told him I'd never seen him before in my life, that I didn't know what he was talking about, and he started getting furious. He started speaking a foreign language I didn't recognize, yelling and gesticulating wildly. All the waitstaff was ignoring him. So I tried to diffuse the situation. I asked him to sit down and tell me who he thought I was and what he thought he owed me.

So he sat down and told me I was a name I'd never heard before. "Nate." Not my name. He told me I borrowed money from him and then disappeared, leaving behind an abandoned apartment. He said we could straighten this out if I payed him right away, but otherwise he was not the kind of person to owe money too. I showed him my ID, not Nate, but he was sure I was Nate. The waiter came over and left my coffee. The man said "So, are you gonna pay me?"

Well hell no I wasn't. So I told him to fuck right off, and he splashed coffee all over my face. Then he started hitting me right in the middle of the restaurant. Giving me a proper mafia beatdown in front of everyone. I'm not a fighter, I'm a lover, and I'm rich, so I said, "fine, I'll pay, how much?"

Then he said "About tree fiddy." It was at that time I noticed he wasn't a mafioso Joe Pesci copycat, but a 500 ft tall monster from the paleolithic era. So I said "God Damn Loch Ness Monster, I ain't givin' you no tree fiddy."
Posted by SpGNo]]> Fri, 07 Dec 2012 14:03:22 -0800 The Stranger
No regrets. Especially since it was $1.50 wells night.
Posted by BlagHag]]> Fri, 07 Dec 2012 13:26:32 -0800 The Stranger Posted by mitten]]> Fri, 07 Dec 2012 13:04:56 -0800 The Stranger Posted by two shoes]]> Fri, 07 Dec 2012 13:00:19 -0800 The Stranger
I'd log out and comment anonymously too if I was going to say something as inane as "I know you are but what am I?"
Posted by Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn]]> Fri, 07 Dec 2012 13:00:16 -0800 The Stranger
That was the one scenario (device in breast pocket coupled with thrown drink being a full pint) I'd thought of that could be problematic for the throwee. Given the rarity of that scenario -- seriously, I don't think I know anyone else who keeps a phone in that pocket -- I think you should feel free to throw drinks at will.
Posted by mikethehammer]]> Fri, 07 Dec 2012 12:58:16 -0800 The Stranger
The gendered assumptions here are that if a man violates the rules of chivalry, then he may have drink thrown on him, or perhaps be slapped. Those same rules give a husband the authority for corporal punishment of his wife.

Nostalgia for the good old days when people of privilege could get away with acting like an animal, and people without privilege were ignored. See "Mad Men"."

Boy are you privileged AND projecting. Especially if you conflate domestic violence with throwing a drink on someone.
Posted by how brave of you to stick up for privileged men]]> Fri, 07 Dec 2012 12:50:35 -0800 The Stranger Posted by keshmeshi]]> Fri, 07 Dec 2012 12:27:13 -0800 The Stranger Posted by dwightmoodyforgetsthings]]> Fri, 07 Dec 2012 12:05:01 -0800 The Stranger Posted by Breklor]]> Fri, 07 Dec 2012 12:01:58 -0800 The Stranger