I had an almost dreamlike experience a couple of nights ago. I was at a bar in Katy, Texas with some of my dearest friends night before last. Nature was calling me, so I went to take care of it. In this particular bar there was a door (more like a secret passageway) that led to an intermediate hall which in turn led to the men's and ladies' rooms. I took care of my business (and yes, I washed my hands), and as I was walking out of the men's room back into the hall that led back into the bar, I saw on the door leading back into the bar, a sign that read "pull open slowly." This immediately struck me as a very sensible rule. No doubt there will often be the occasional inebriated person on the other side stumbling towards the door and pushing on it in a very uncoordinated and clumsy fashion. If on the other side someone yanked open the door at the last moment, no doubt the inebriated person would faceplant. So I obeyed. I pulled the door open ... very ... slowly. On the other side of the door was a young woman, drink in hand, her members swaying like a tree in the wind. We shared a moment of awkward eye contact. Her stare, unlike her swaying limbs, was focused and quizzical. I could not tell if she was trying to be flirtatious or hostile. Not that it would have mattered. But smiling, I stood aside and held the door open so that she might enter. As she walked in she did not take her eyes off of me. And just as she was passing by, her free hand became a fist, which she then proceeded to apply rather forcibly to my upper abdominal wall. BAM. I made no reaction. I feared that, if she was trying to flirt, any response whatsoever from me would be interpreted by her as an acceptance of her advances. So I dared not ask her the obvious question -- "Why?" I simply walked through the door back into the bar and towards my party -- thinking to myself the whole time, "I just got punched in the chest." I feel like I should have gotten a T-shirt.