Dateline: high school, senior year. Ma was out of town for a week. Decided to throw a gala. Was working at Skippers Seafood at the time, had some pals there, but in general thought like a teen: why not mention to the school? What could go wrong?
Gala day. Early before anyone arrived, knock on door. It was 3 guys, only 1 I sort of knew. I'll make up a random name, how about John Leras. Liter of vodka in hand, said hey could we come in? Heard you were having a gala. I said, um sure. I decision I would deeply regret for hours. He & his boys started hitting the hooch. Apparently. Heard some racket in the basement. Went down there. John was holding a smashed acoustic guitar my cousin was storing there. I stared at him, baffled. What the fuck? I recall just smh. Mebbe I didn't wanna confront & boot out a violent drunk but that was a mistake. He seemed surprised or maybe sheepish. But I didn't do anything. Why I didn't toss him I don't know. Who knows.
Others arriving. Normal folks. One guy brought his electric guitar & amp, started playing in basement. He was good. More arrived. 20 mebbe? About 10 dudes in the basement stood in a circle issuing wrestling challenges. I recall John whining & yelling at people, just going around the circle yelling. Prolly in blackout by then or near it. He was the single dark spot in otherwise decent gala.
And here's where the gala really went into darkness. Someone told me to go to the bathroom. John had taken shaving cream and drawn 4 foot high letters on the mirror. Don't recall the word. I stared at him and said clean it up. And he and his buddy did, for about 10 seconds. Then the eruption. Those 2 started pounding on each other. Full on blows in front of me right there in the crapper. Others gather to watch the spectacle. They're wailing on each other, fists to faces.
Somehow, they exit the crapper and head out the front door still pounding on each other. The front door was somehow open, which has a short stoop, a 3ft brick wall and cement stairs beyond that. Over they go, the both of them onto the cement stairs. A bunch follow. So now there's 10 or more in my front yard, at sundown, witnessing a brawl, with a houseful of underage drinkers. One vivid image I have at that exact moment as I looked outside was my bestie Brian pushing his gf into his car in the driveway, next to the brawl and peeling out, not to return. Gotta protect the womenfolk I reckon. I turned off the outside light & locked the door. Realizing, houseful of underage drinkers, brawl on front lawn, this is going swimmingly.
Back inside I went to the crapper and my other bestie Laura was in there, cleaning up the blood and pieces of skin, sobbing. At some point people started coming back inside, shaken. John was pounding on the door. I went outside and AT LAST told him hey man time to go. His face was bloody & bruised. I walked him to his car parked right out front with 10+ other cars parked on the street. He was blacked out, but I couldn't care less, get away from this house. Last vivid memory of him was him in driver's seat, me opened other door to say now split or something and he slurred & pointed & uttered this exact quote through nearly closed black eyes 'I'll fuck you up.' I closed the door, he started it up and drove away. I watched it go down the street fully expecting him to drive into a house.
A day or 2 later I overheard someone at school say this: anyone seen Leras' face? He got into a fight at one party then drove to another party and resumed fighting there.'
Mebbe a rumor, who knows, who cares. Lessons? Don't allow shitheads into your house. A lesson I learned the hard way.