I almost got into my first physical girl fight.

It was scary. And I’ll be the first to… I almost got into my first physical girl fight.

It was scary. And I’ll be the first to tell you – I would have gotten my butt kicked. I sometimes question my ability to confront the garter snake that resides somewhere in the bathroom that my roommate and I share, let alone another human being. Especially a girl. Girls are really scary.

But there comes a time when you have to stand your ground. I didn’t do anything to provoke her verbal attack, but I had to be ready to defend myself if and when it escalated.

So, here’s what happened.

Two of my roommates and I had enjoyed an evening gallivanting around Station Square, safely making it there and back via taxi. One would think, amidst the hundreds of girls I had encountered while out that night, that the near girl fight would have occurred while I was out. But it didn’t.

Instead, we arrived home, where my roommates insisted that we get some late night food. I wasn’t hungry, but not one to be a party-pooper, I went along. We entered a popular late night food joint, and the girls headed to the front counter to order while I remained at the entrance talking to a friend.

It was at this point that I thought I felt something hit my back. I turned around to see a couple tables of people, talking and laughing together, none seemingly paying any attention to little old me. I turned back to my friend and continued the conversation, only to feel food hit my back again.

This time, I turned around fast enough to see her hand coming back down after launching the item at me. I politely asked if she had thrown food at me. In hindsight, probably not such a hard-ass thing to do. She, along with her friend, mocked me and proceeded to throw more food at me, telling me – this is the kicker – to “go eat something.”

Oh no she didn’t.

Immediately, I started to shake. I eat more than any other girl – and most boys – whom I know. Besides, what had I done to provoke such an attack? I was just standing there, talking to a friend. So I asked her what her problem was. Again, probably not such a good idea.

She proceeded to berate me while her friends looked on, and I felt myself getting smaller and smaller. I almost instantly reverted to my middle school boyhood days (those days when I shared a lunch table with my gay boy best friend, Bryan, and we never stood up for ourselves), and thought I was going to cry.

Until I realized that, this time around, I had enough guts to stand my ground. But, if she was going to rely on her friends to back her up, then so could I. And, this time around, I also had some strong friends who could actually beat me at arm wrestling, unlike Bryan.

So, I called to my roommates standing at the counter awaiting their food. Important facts about all five of us roommates: None of us is shorter than 5-8, and we would do anything for one another. When Natasha and Shannon turned around, I watched the girl shrink back into her seat.

Sure, pick on the vulnerable little girl that you think is by herself.

Wrong.

Shannon caught on to what was happening, and slowly approached me, taking out her earrings and handing them to me, rolling up her sleeves and pulling back her hair. She leaned over the girl and asked her if she had a problem with me. Odd thing is, this seemed to work for Shannon. She just has that intimidation factor that I seem to be lacking.

Problem solved. No physical altercation, no more extensive verbal abuse. Just a little intimidation like the girl had flexed towards me. I’d never had someone provoke me like that before. And I’d never had someone stand up for me like Shannon did. That’s what friends are for.

I’ve decided it’s time I lost this timidity. Strength like Shannon’s should be in my blood. When my Gram was young, she beat up three older girls who would follow her home from school and pick on her. The key was that she targeted them each individually. Sure, there’s power in numbers, but what about when you’re alone? Maybe I just haven’t realized my own potential.

So, look out, mean girls of the world. You might not want to meet me in a dark alley. And in case things don’t work out in my favor, I have a friend named Shannon.

E-mail Jessica at [email protected], but don’t try to start anything.