Other than the loss of vision and trip to the ER, our first date was a smashing success

Sally Shutesanladders, the woman I met at the bar the other night, and I had our first date last night. We ended up on the couch in her apartment. My memory of what happened next is a bit hazy, but this is how I documented it in my diary several hours after I returned home from the hospital last night. It reads in real time:

I'm kissing her; I'm kissing her; I'm kissing her; I'm feeling her up; I'm feeling her up; she's slapping me; she's slapping me again; I'm kissing her; I'm kissing her; I'm feeling her up; I'm feeling her up again; she's slapping me; she's slapping me; I'm kissing her; I'm kissing her; I'm feeling and rubbing her; she's spraying my open eyeballs with mace; she's spraying my open eyeballs with mace; I'm screaming; I'm crying; I'm sreaming for Jesus to save me; she's throwing water in my face; I'm kissing her; I'm kissing her; I'm feeling her; she's hitting me over the head with a collapsable baton; I'm bleeding everywhere; I'm crying; I'm screaming; she's dialing 9-1-1; I'm vomiting from the pain; I'm trying to kiss her again; she's kneeing me in the esophagus; I'm passing out.

That's all I remember. I woke up in a hospital bed with my wrist handcuffed to the railing. What a night! I can't wait to see her again.