Big Brother and the Errant Brick

When I was 21, I briefly dated a guy named Neil, who had recently been hired at the restaurant where I was a waitress. One night, about five weeks after we'd started dating, we had gone out barhopping on Sixth Street and had gotten separated at some point. I went back to Neil's apartment to wait for him there, and shortly after he got home, we went to sleep. Shortly after we'd gone to bed, completely out of the blue, Neil sat up in bed, told me to get the fuck out, and then proceeded to beat the living hell out of me. I later found out that, after we'd gotten separated on Sixth Street, he'd hooked up with some people who'd given him some cocaine, and he was high as a kite. That was the end of our relationship.

In any event, he beat me so badly that I was bedridden for a couple of days. The following evening, I was supposed to go to a concert with Steve and our friend Annette, but had to cancel because I could barely sit up in bed. When Steve found out why I couldn't go to the concert, he went into a full-on big brother rage. He told me a day or two later that he and Annette had gone to the concert, and had then driven to Neil's apartment building. They found a brick and tied a note to it reading: "Yep, you fucked up," and then they hurled it through Neil's window and drove off.

The only problem with this is that they threw the brick through the wrong window! Steve was mortified when I informed him of this after driving by to check out the damage for myself. I feel bad for whoever lived in the apartment in which that brick landed, but I still chuckle when I think of it. This poor soul must have been wondering what the hell they had done, and to whom. Steve had the best of intentions, though. He always, always looked out for me. A few months later, he did manage to get some satisfaction by slashing one of Neil's tires at the restaurant's annual Christmas party, which I'd brought him to as my date for the evening. Thankfully, he got the right car that time. :)