Street violence or something like it

In one of those few instances when I didn't get to commute during my college years, I experienced my first ever street violence or something like it.

During college every Christmas, I go to Zamboanga for the obvious reason. I had lived a very simple life in high school in Zamboanga; college in Manila, however, was a different story. Zamboanga life was limited to the school, mall, beach and my house, of course; no Saturday night fun at all! But since college came and I was introduced to the fun and thrill of clubbing in Malate, I asked permission from my parents if I could do the same in Zamboanga and attend the  December 30 New Year's party at the most happening club in my city. I also asked them if I could get my cousin to drive our jeep. My wonderful parents said yes to all; finally, at 19, I got to go to my first ever 'authorized' night out! Fun! Fun! Fun!

Being the president of my high school class and quite a friendly character on campus and one of the few who had gone to Manila for college, I danced with all the people in my school circle as if I made up for lost time! I had beauty queens, pretty and simple girls to exchange dance moves with. Apparently, I did not have with me the latest Manila moves, but it was fun nonetheless. Later in the evening, we had a bit a booze and fun stories being exchanged by everyone. I was just too excited to see all my friends in a place like that. Although a bit tipsy, I had my focus on  just them and ignoring everyone else who was a stranger. Like all the good things, this one had to end also.

At the parking lot of the club as I was about to take my seat by the passenger side, I received a sudden blow from my left ear, and then, another at the back of my head. Instinct told me to go to the back seat to avoid further harm. I instructed my cousin to drive but he was also attacked by a man with a steel rod. !@#$! This can't be happening, I told myself. All I wanted was out of there. The people around, even our friends, were helpless. They knew the four guys who surrounded us.

Someone must have intervened or the guards came, this I didn't know anymore. I only saw my cousin hit the accelerator the moment he saw the road was clear. It was one of the fastest trips home. I got off the vehicle the moment my cousin parked the jeep by the driveway. I repeatedly pressed the door bell until my mother, who had sensed that the constant bell ringing meant something, opened the gate to see me bleeding near my ear.

What transpired after that was like a scene in a Filipino soap opera with elements of drama, action and dialogues of vengeance! hehe.

New year's eve we were at the police station and at the government hospital. We were able to identify the main guy who had attacked us.

The guy came with his mother. The police said the most we could do was file damages for slight physical injury. The poor mother was apologetic. No word came from the asshole.

We were not keen on filing a case; I had my studies in Manila to think of.  We just made them see that we were not the types they could mess up with.

The remaining days of my vacation was spent at home doing phone calls and eating the season's leftovers.  I learned through my classmates that the mauling incident was because of my dancing with my beauty queen classmate whom my perpetrator had his eyes on. #@$$#!!! He must have felt threatened upon seeing a new face dancing with his babe. I also learned from my beauty queen classmate that there was nothing between the two of them, and that she was sorry that it happened to me. I did not anymore doubt the veracity of my female classmate's statement. Just one look at the guy and you would know that his match could only be a vermin.

I am heading once more to Zamboanga for the holidays and for our 10th year high school reunion. I will be seeing my classmates' faces once more, only them, I hope. I intend to make the reunion as my only itinerary this time. Holiday visits to the police station and government hospitals are never fun.