In my first year at Iowa State as an undergraduate, I didn’t join a boxing club. Nor did Iowa State have intramural boxing. Regardless, I did manage to get myself knocked the ____ out.
On a very pleasant Wednesday evening, a group of guys from our dorm floor had an itch to go out into the commons of Friley Hall (an outdoor space completely closed in by the dorm building) and play some hackey sack. There we were, minding our own business playing hackey sack. We were talking and yelling at each other at a volume that you would expect from a decent sized group playing hackey sack.
The problem, however, was that it was Wednesday. And, it was past 10pm.
Friley Hall is 5 stories tall, and my house (Noble House) was on the third. As you all know, when you inform a bunch of gentleman like ourselves that we were being a little loud for a school night, and you politely request that we keep it down, we would have granted this request in a heartbeat. (I don’t actually know this, but I like to believe that we would).
Instead, colorful metaphors were used in a very loud and commanding way (STFU). This didn’t go over to well.
Do you suppose that shut us up? Do you suppose that it even kept all of us at the same volume that we currently held? I can definitely tell you the answer to the first question is no. The answer to the second is debatable.
Soon after this command (with colorful metaphors) was directed at us very loudly with absolutely no sign that the command would be followed, an egg came down upon us and crashed into the middle of our circle.
Isn’t it obvious what the appropriate response should be?
Of course!! We decided that we should ALL go up to the fifth floor and confront whoever threw this egg. I mean, seriously. Think of all the good that can come from this.
Yeah, yeah. Hindsight is wonderful.
So, we all managed to get up to the fifth floor somehow. I think it was by borrowing a person of responsibility’s key (they probably shouldn’t have had this responsibility) to the elevator so that we could get onto their floor. After all, it was after hours.
We went to the door of the room from which the egg came. Somehow, I was at the front of the 6-8 person group. I remember knocking, and inquiring who threw the egg. The dude that eventually came to the door to confront us was a head taller than I was. I’m serious. The top of my head was where his neck began. He looked very much like this guy.
This dude put his hand on my chest to push me away. I didn’t want to look like a wuss, so I shoved his hand off my chest and told him not to touch me. That was the last thing I remember until coming to a few moments later as I was being dragged down the hallway by my dorm floor mates.
When I got back to my dorm room, I remember not being able to tell you where I was. I couldn’t tell you what day it was, what town I was in, or pretty much anything. It was a very distressful feeling having been knocked out.
Eventually, things began to return. As they returned, I felt a pain in my back. When I asked my roommate Shawn about it, he was shocked to find out that I didn’t recall the kicking that I had received after I had been knocked out. Hmmm. Nope. Didn’t remember that.
There is an easy lesson I learned from this. I’m pretty confident that this won’t happen again.
It was humorous to find out that when campus security knocked on his door later, they found him kneeling and praying with a Bible open in front of him. He did get in trouble, but we also got in trouble, too, since we never could directly answer how we managed to get on their floor.