It's funny... I've literally just finished having an altercation with my neighbour, a rather torrid exchange of words climaxing in a brief scuffle, and now, revelling in the quick flurry of anectdotes that inevitably get babbled excitedly by people who were present, I'm noticing major discrepancies in each person's account.
It's not the first time either, pretty much every fistfight I've ever been involved in, once the time for regaling others with tales of the battle comes around, everyone seems to have experienced a completely different fight.
Bystanders have misconceptions over who threw first, etc. Whilst the people in the thick of it seem to have the best recollection. Case in point: Midway through the angry trading of words, the words "Your mother is a whore" came up, as it inevitably does when arguing against those of lesser intelligence. This was uttered in the presence of not only my mother, but also her husband and my rather superhumanly strong younger sister.
The whore card was not exactly the smartest card to play...
So, my stepfather and sister took off after him, filled with righteous indignation and rage, whilst I scurried along behind them, intending to intercept this freight train hurtling towards assault charge city.
My stepfather reached him, both of their arms cocked back, fists trembling, and I smoothly inserted myself between them like a suave douchebag cutting in on your date at the prom. I pushed my stepfather back, to prevent anything physical from occurring, then figured "Fuck it", Grabbed my neighbour in a headlock and delivered a mortal Kombat 3 uppercut directly to his pug face. He, and this is in all seriousness, flew back, knocked off of his feet, landed on the ground and started scurrying away on his ass like a cockroach. See, I'm not exactly the pinnacle of strength, and this guy outweighs me by about 20 or so kilos, yet I knocked the dust out of him as easy as can be. It's even more amusing considering that he was goading me earlier on, telling me that any time I wanted to bring it, to bring it. So after flooring him like a red headed stepchild, I felt a massive wave of remorse, even more so ten seconds later when his child wandered outside to play and saw her daddy knocked on his ass.
But, blow by blow account aside, I'll return to the point. Since this moment of anger, many tales have circulated through the household about what occurred, yet each seems to be padded with embellishments and misconceptions. I've heard everything from: My stepfather was the one who knocked him down, via a hurricane kick followed by him bellowing "Hadouken!", That my neighbougbour struck first and made suggestive comments to my dog, that my crippling attack looked like the last drunken lurch of Oliver Reed, etc.
Rumours and conjecture abounds after anything of great interest... It's even got me questioning my own recollections.
Anyway, I just thought I'd ruminate on the differing accounts of the situation, and express my great respect for anyone who has to take down firsthand accounts of any catastrophe, they clearly have their work cut out, especially if the main participants cannot agree on what exactly occurred, as is the case here.
I thought we all saw the world through the same eyes, more or less, but everyone seems to interpret each situation differently.
Hmmm... Deep.
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