The woman and I fell into an argument. The argument escalated until we became physical and I knocked her down on the floor of the front seat. She had a small metal box, from which she extracted a little instrument which had a razor blade in the end of it. She held the instrument in her hand and was trying to twist it around so she could cut me with it, but I pushed her hand so the razor blade pressed against something and was bent back. When she finally dropped the razor blade, I picked it up and put it on the dash. I then picked up the metal box and threw it on the dash. The box contained another razor blade which popped out onto the dash.

The woman and I continued struggling until I finally pulled off the wig which she was wearing. Some kind of flat, silver, metal piece was attached to -- and stood straight up on -- the back of her head. The piece was rounded at the top. In a way, it seemed as if her entire head were metallic. I was going to throw the wig out the window, but since I saw that her head was partly metallic, I finally gave the wig back to her and said, "Well, I won't do that to you."

We didn't go to a movie, but kept riding around until we arrived at the woman's mobile home, out in the country. I had been to this mobile home before, but I couldn't remember when. My father and the woman both stepped out of the car. I stayed in the car while one of them asked me if I wanted to come in. I asked my father who lived there and he replied, "Well this is her place of business."

I now understood that the woman was a prostitute.

Another car pulled up behind our car. While my father remained standing beside our car, the woman ran back to the other car. When I heard her talking to some fellows in the other car, I said, "Dad, she's asking those guys to come up here and beat me up."

My father just stood without responding. I finally stepped out of the car just as four large men began walking toward us from the other car. One tall thin fellow with black frizzy hair was walking in front of the others. I heard him say, "Well, two years younger than him."

All four were bigger than I, and I could see that it would be hopeless for me to fight against all of them. They all walked right up to me, grabbed me and held me down against the fender of the car. As they pulled back their fists as if they were going to hit me, I said, "Wait a minute. Let me explain something first. I'm a law student."

I told them they would all be accused of "battery with intent to kill." I asked, "You are intending to kill me, aren't you?"

They hesitated for a moment, looked at each other and smiled. I was unsure whether they wanted to kill me. I began thinking I ought to cover my face and bend over so they wouldn't be able to kick me between the legs.

They said something which I didn't quite understand, but it sounded as if one of them might know something about the law, and I thought he might be in law school. I looked at their faces more carefully, thinking I might need to be able to identify them later. One muscular fellow was wearing a red shirt. All seemed like pretty good guys. Apparently, they had come to engage the prostitute in her services. But apparently they were also her friends.

I saw my father over by their car, and I thought he might at least be trying to get their license number.

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