Don't Mess With a Bunch of Chicks

Next to me would be the infamous hero of this story.

Generally, I don’t believe in retaliation. If you mess with me, typically, I’m such a weenie, that I’ll either end up apologizing for something you did or just run away. Therefore, this story is noteworthy because it is so drastically out of character for me.

In college my roommate started dating a guy named Hunter. (And yes, if you’ve been following these fun stories, this would be the same Hunter we terrorized over email.) Anyway, I love my roommate, but she somehow forgot Hunter was a serial womanizer. After dating a semester, Hunter began to cheat on my roommate with my other teammate. We all tried to tell my roommate to dump Hunter, but each time he was caught he somehow convinced her to stay.

One night we all were out at a bar and spied Hunter hooking up with my teammate while my roommate sat across the room. At this point we decided to take the matter into our own hands. As we were leaving the bar, three teammates of mine and me spotted Hunter’s beautiful new green truck. Facetiously, I handed my keys to my teammate, Foster, and ordered her to go key Hunter’s car. Foster, quickly refused and before I could pull away my keys, my other teammate Byrd grabbed them and ran for the truck. In quick and fluid motions Byrd began to make gigantic circles on Hunter’s car door. As you can imagine, we all were in absolute disbelief and it took us a couple of seconds to stop Byrd. By the time I grabbed my keys from her hand, the damage had been done. After surveying the scratches we all made a pact not to tell anyone of what we had done. It wasn’t until my roommate was really finished with Hunter did I tell her of the night.

Moral of the story: Don’t mess with a bunch of chicks. Especially drunk ones.