I was sitting in the restaurant all alone when two men I had never seen before came through the door and sat down at a table right in front of me. The man that had his back towards me seemed like an okay guy but the other man that was looking straight at me was a definite head case. One look and I could tell he was the hyper type that was strung out and if he caught anyone looking at him for any reason he would snap and try to start a fight. It was obvious why he had this chip on his shoulder: it was because his face was covered in pocked craters, likely from when he had had chicken pox as a child.
He caught me looking at him. I then heard him say to his buddy, "That sh*thead in behind you keeps looking at me. If he does it one more time I'm going to go over there and break his face."
I tried to look in another direction but it was awkward because I wanted to look at the t.v. which was straight ahead of me and right over top of his head. I didn't know what to do so I moved over on the opposite side of the booth. Then I heard him pipe up again, "What a little bitch, he's so scared that he has to turn his back to me."
There was nothing that I hated more than being taunted in a sarcastic manner. My blood was starting to boil and my hands started to shake so violently that I couldn't shovel the food off my plate and into my mouth. I tried to calm down but I knew I wouldn't be able to and the only way to resolve the situation was to leave, but there was no way that was going to happen. I tried to ride it out then something wet hit me in the back of the head. The dickhead had thrown an ice cube at me. I continued to sit and could hear him laughing at me and calling me a little bitch. He continued to throw food, including a half eaten piece of steak that landed perfectly on my plate.
A couple minutes went by and I was not hit with any meat or other type of food. I turned around and looked over my shoulder. He was gone. He must have went to the washroom. I got up and started for the washroom and it was in there that I would see how tough he was.
At the washroom door I opened it slowly and poked my head in and looked around. There was nobody visible but I could see the feet of someone under the door in a stall. It was him. I turned off the lights in the washroom and he hollered out, "Hey, what is happening? Who turned out the lights?"
He thought I was a schmuck and now he was going to pay in blood. I walked to his stall and booted the door in, he screamed. I had caught him with his pants down. I then kneed him in the face and heard a crack as his nose busted. I then fed him a buffet of knuckle sandwiches. He knew it was me. I grabbed him by the hair and then dunked his head in the toilet to give him a taste and then left the washroom.
I walked back to my seat and crater face was sitting with his buddy. A minute later some guy I had never seen before staggered out of the washroom with a busted face.