I never was a supersticious person. Luck, in my belief is partially based upon optimism, as well as recognizing an opportunity when you see one. Unluck is just the opposite, compined with self-fulfilling prophecies. I fall into neither catergory.
Yet today, on friday the thirteenth, I got into a fight.
This may be a regular occurence for many of you, but I prefer to avoid conflict. Some accursed skater punk who I shall call Ryan was giving me s**t about something. I was telling him to leave me alone, then go away, then to leave me the f**k alone. He started pushing me. I pushed him back. I accidentally knocked his hat off his head. He said NOBODY touches his hat, and tried to punch me. I blocked his blow, the adrenaline flows, my senses go into hyperdrive. I only fought in defense, because I knew that if I hit him, it would have been the best feeling in to world. I wouldnt be able to stop. He thought he had won because he struck my ear, but I hadnt given an inch of ground, so he gave up and walked away.
We drew a crowd of gawkers, but luckily none of them were the kind who would report us.
Why does he persist in thinking he won, walking around so smug? I had the true victory in this. I didnt give in to his intimidation, nor did I run to the administration (though if I had done this, they'd have had no case against me: I didnt strike him).
What should I do now?