You probably hang around nicer people.
Has anyone in real life ever…bolt upright from seeing a giant shark and back cautiously into the cabin and murmured “We’re going to nee a bigger boat”?
Hmmm…
Sweeping things off a table? Not exactly like that, no. (Either in anger or sex). However, when angry, I do have a tendency (say, once a year maybe) to throw things or slam them down and this can easily knock over items on a table. Given how much better I control my anger than my father or grandfather, let’s just call this progress.
Sitting bolt upright in bed? Yes, but rarely because of a dream or sudden realization. Every once in a while if I’m sleeping in a weird position and have eaten just before bed, I can sort burp up a tiny bit of vomit. Just enough to wake me and leave a weird taste in my mouth, but my instinctive reaction is to sit straight up before I’m even conscious of what I’m doing.
Confessing to my hostages? Of course not! Everyone knows you don’t talk to your victims until after you’ve strangled them and dressed them for afternoon tea with mother.
I flipped a board of checkers (mid game) because it wasn’t going the way I wanted it to. I was probably about 6 or 7.
Has anyone actually kissed so passionately that is starts in one place, continues as it moves into the car, through the front door, up the stairs and while the clothes are coming off?
My father was notorious for his temper. Not only sweeping entire dinners off the table, but upending the table, or throwing food to the opposite wall. He even upended the outside grill, because a burger had landed on the ground.
I won’t go into how he treated his family.
Sure. Well, I haven’t gone through cars and steps, but definitely through doors and halls.
In fourth grade, I was incredibly disorganized and messy (much like today). My school desk was piled with books and papers. When our teacher asked us to clear our desks in preparation for a test, I took my arm and swept everything onto the floor with a magnificent crash. The class erupted in laughter.
Then it was my teacher’s turn.
I never ever did that again.
And then it was your fault for making him waste food?
I have never swept desks clean or bolted upright in bed, but I have slammed doors shut while cursing loudly and I think that ought to count.
Yeah, I’m another one who did this. Exactly once in my mid-teens, with probably the last real nightmare I had. I even started out mubling half-asleep, then cried out someone’s name! Pure cliche, but I guess they come from somewhere.
In grade school – fourth grade – I picked up an entire kiddy desk-and-chair and threw it two aisles over. Thank God it didn’t hit anyone, because that could conceivably have killed.
I saw a young couple in the supermarket once, who were apparently having an argument. The woman was calm and speaking normally so that I could not hear her. But the man could be heard from many aisles away, and he was shouting and randomly smacking stuff off the grocery shelves. He didn’t clear a whole shelf though.
I was torn between getting the hell away from them, or offering the woman safe haven. Spoiler alert: I’m a wuss.
I bolded the part that for some reason reminded me of the fresh corpse flopping out of a freezer in Texas Chainsaw Massacre, which perhaps isn’t the most germaine observation to this thread.
In elementary grade after a yelling match with the sisters I threw one of those black plastic McDonald’s ashtrays out my window, and then an X-mas snowglobe. Not sure why I had the ashtray considering I wasn’t a smoker, and as far as the globe’s concerned - it made a nice, loud, splashing crash sound, and when I looked out the window, buddy from two townhouses over looked at the mess, and then directly right up at me, glaring at me, along with that annoying, pointy, outdoorsman-y beard of his. Funnily no knock at the door came. Huh. Maybe I ducked before I could be seen through the window’s glare.
A couple years earlier the older brother would vent pathological, volcanic, steam taking slapshots at the basement wall. It was that thin, 70’s wood panelling with black vertical lines (yeah you oldsters know what I’m talking about) that the puck rendered into a splintered void eventually, and before the panelling on the other side got too destroyed (showing more and more stud), mum had to draw the line.
In a house I lived in for twelve years (seeing 24 roommates come and go) there was one roommate who got all koogly-eyed and incoherent if he drank shitty-drinking-establishment-style draught. Complete and utter crossing of the synapses, and often his hyper-defensiveness led to assholism. This means he was a shitty drunk. One time (trust me - there’s too many of them - so I’ll keep it to just this one) his drunken gong show-ery led to a nasty cut down his forearm. After smashing some bottles around, he wrote “fuck o” on the basement wall before running out of blood for the “f”'s.
Me - whenever I get ever pissed, I might whip a tablecloth off the table as all the fine china, cutlery, and pot roast stay put.
I threw a hat once…and it wasn’t because I didn’t like the hat.
Sort of yes. I was being carried at the time, until we got to the bed and the clothes started coming off.
Happened when DH came home from Iraq.
It probably didn’t look cool, though; more awkward as hell.
A coworker of mine did it to the boss’s desk some years ago. He was trying to make the gutless wanker fire him, to no avail. I was in awe.
I’ve done this but only a very few times and from the worst nightmares. The kind from which I also wake with a pounding heart and various other physical
signs of fear.
Definitely a sheltered life. I’ve thrown things when pissed off more times than I can count.