The road to redemption
I feel like, after everything being so blurry for so long, everything is starting to snap back into focus. Sometimes you need your friends to tell you when you're being a prick; and really, that's what true friends do.
Had a great training session last night. We did strikes and kicks into a bag, which was illuminating, to say the least. I seriously doubt that I would do much damage if I ever had to use my Karate in a real life situation...Yolanda said my kicks were stronger than I thought, but I just didn't feel it.
Anyway, after training, I got back to Ursies, got ready very quickly, and met up with Ailsa and non-German Tom, hereafter referred to as Tom S. We headed out to a house party in O'Connor, which was nice and fairly small. Chatted to some people there, and Ailsa and I left a few hours later for the Kremlin Bar in Civic, to meet up with Michael and German Tom, hereafter referred to as Tom W. I was curious to see the Kremlin Bar, as it sounded like a cool concept, but apart from lots of red and a few of those fuzzy Soviet hats, it didn't differ much from any other bar. Things were slow moving, moderately boring, so the four of us walked past Moose, where we ran into a bunch of Ursies people.
Then things started getting really weird. There was this wrong vibe in the air. We proceeded on, intending on going to Knightsbridge Bar, but Michael was getting the shits because Ailsa wasn't showing any interest in him, and I was getting worried because she wasn't having a nice time. So I asked Michael to get the car...a few minutes later, the stupid bastard comes screeching around the corner, does a big turn, and smacks into the gutter. Mind you, this is not from drinking, it's from anger. My hackles start to rise...and I ask him to take us home. He starts muttering to himself about wasting his time, whilst Ailsa is crying in the seat next to me and Tom W is trying to calm him down. He beeps his horn at people and drives fast, and when we get back to college, Ailsa bolts from the car. I begin following her, but Tom W catches up to me to apologise, and I miss seeing Michael slip away after Ailsa. When I realise this, the proverbial shit hits the fan. I message her, phone her, knock on her door (at this point I've been in Brendon's room telling him what happened and he's also calling and messaging her) but I can't find her. Brendon and I are pretty much thinking worst case scenario here, until someone tells me Ailsa is downstairs near reception. I rush downstairs, and see Michael talking to her. I tell him to leave, but Ailsa says she'll hear what he has to say. I stand there watching them like a hawk, with Brendon standing by reading to deck Michael if he does anything stupid. Then Michael goes, and Ailsa bursts into tears and goes up to her room.
It took me a while to calm down after that. How dare he. This Michael guy prides himself on being so cultured and sophisticated, but he acted like a spoilt child. You don't treat women, or people in general, like that. Ever. You don't chuck a tantrum because you can't have what you want. You rise above it. You'd think that university students would have some kind of intelligence, but alas, it isn't always so.
Anyway, after that event, Brendon and I chatted and watched some TV until around 4am, and then I went over to see Tom W at Burgmann, where I stayed until I went off to work. Yay for no sleeping! Sleep is for the weak!
Had a great training session last night. We did strikes and kicks into a bag, which was illuminating, to say the least. I seriously doubt that I would do much damage if I ever had to use my Karate in a real life situation...Yolanda said my kicks were stronger than I thought, but I just didn't feel it.
Anyway, after training, I got back to Ursies, got ready very quickly, and met up with Ailsa and non-German Tom, hereafter referred to as Tom S. We headed out to a house party in O'Connor, which was nice and fairly small. Chatted to some people there, and Ailsa and I left a few hours later for the Kremlin Bar in Civic, to meet up with Michael and German Tom, hereafter referred to as Tom W. I was curious to see the Kremlin Bar, as it sounded like a cool concept, but apart from lots of red and a few of those fuzzy Soviet hats, it didn't differ much from any other bar. Things were slow moving, moderately boring, so the four of us walked past Moose, where we ran into a bunch of Ursies people.
Then things started getting really weird. There was this wrong vibe in the air. We proceeded on, intending on going to Knightsbridge Bar, but Michael was getting the shits because Ailsa wasn't showing any interest in him, and I was getting worried because she wasn't having a nice time. So I asked Michael to get the car...a few minutes later, the stupid bastard comes screeching around the corner, does a big turn, and smacks into the gutter. Mind you, this is not from drinking, it's from anger. My hackles start to rise...and I ask him to take us home. He starts muttering to himself about wasting his time, whilst Ailsa is crying in the seat next to me and Tom W is trying to calm him down. He beeps his horn at people and drives fast, and when we get back to college, Ailsa bolts from the car. I begin following her, but Tom W catches up to me to apologise, and I miss seeing Michael slip away after Ailsa. When I realise this, the proverbial shit hits the fan. I message her, phone her, knock on her door (at this point I've been in Brendon's room telling him what happened and he's also calling and messaging her) but I can't find her. Brendon and I are pretty much thinking worst case scenario here, until someone tells me Ailsa is downstairs near reception. I rush downstairs, and see Michael talking to her. I tell him to leave, but Ailsa says she'll hear what he has to say. I stand there watching them like a hawk, with Brendon standing by reading to deck Michael if he does anything stupid. Then Michael goes, and Ailsa bursts into tears and goes up to her room.
It took me a while to calm down after that. How dare he. This Michael guy prides himself on being so cultured and sophisticated, but he acted like a spoilt child. You don't treat women, or people in general, like that. Ever. You don't chuck a tantrum because you can't have what you want. You rise above it. You'd think that university students would have some kind of intelligence, but alas, it isn't always so.
Anyway, after that event, Brendon and I chatted and watched some TV until around 4am, and then I went over to see Tom W at Burgmann, where I stayed until I went off to work. Yay for no sleeping! Sleep is for the weak!