At around 10:00 p.m. I was standing with my roommate in our doorway when we saw two very noticeably drunken women enter room #19, across the hall. Slobbering profusely and muttering gibberish, they appeared harmless enough and we remained content to laugh quietly while throwing small objects to torment them. Retreating into my own room with my door open, a few minutes later I heard yelling but thought nothing of it.
As the noise and arguing became louder I recognized Larry’s voice interspersed with one of the women’s. The woman was screaming various insults, the details of which I don’t remember clearly (lots of “You think you’re so bad…!”; “I know people who could…”; etc.) and heard Larry repeating again and again, “Go!”; “You need to leave!”; “Go!”; finally punctuated by “Get your fat ass out of my room!”
This went on for a few moments.
At the time when it became obvious that a physical struggle had begun, I crossed the hall into room #19 and saw Tim, Bob, Larry and the woman Kim. Larry was trying to restrain Kim by the shoulders on the bed nearest the door, Larry repeating, “Go! It’s time for you to leave!”, with Kim struggling and all the while kicking, punching and continuing to yell at Larry in boisterous tones. With Bob also trying to restrain Kim and separate the two, I stepped between Larry and Kim, and Kim again violently rushed at Larry, he pushing her fat ass away and back onto the bed.
As I stepped in front of Larry again, I remember he recognizing me clearly, recognizing my attempts to ease the chaos, and he voluntarily backed towards the window (his side of the room, very tidy.) Unrestrained though snarling loudly, Kim popped up again, and rushing towards Larry, punching all the way, struck me in the right brow, knocking my eyeglasses to the ground. Thankfully, they are a space-age first quality titanium frame, a good purchase, and were unharmed.
With the others pulling her towards the door and me restraining her as she went, still resisting, Kim backed into the comer nearest the door. Smirking and cocking her head like an ugly wet sewer rat rabid from her own stench, she picked up off of the desk a federal issue water bottle, full, hid it briefly behind her back, and then let fly across the room in the reasonable direction of Larry, only to hit Bob in the head. Toughened by numerous years of throwin’ trash in New Jersey, Bob was unhurt and his hair only slightly mussed. Pulled out the door by her friends, Kim then left.
I immediately noticed a cut on Larry’s chin, bleeding lightly, to which we attended. The bloody washcloth, we decided, might be good evidence which Larry might later submit to the FBI. A ziploc was suggested.
At no time did I see Larry initiate any violence or in any way act other than to protect his own person.
I myself was stone sober.
Do not hesitate to contact me if there are any questions or if there is need for clarification.
Dorm 205, room #7