My Night at the Chiropractor

I had an appointment with the chiropractor at 4pm today. Just another checkup and minor adjustment. My chiropractor works out of what looks like a small house in inner-Melbourne. There is two doors to access the place. One is the entrance door to the waiting room. This room is very small: about 3 metres long by 1.5 metres wide. There is another door at the end of this room leading out to the garden behind the building. I've never ventured out there. The second entrance door is actually the exit door. This ensures that you come in to the waiting room, then you walk through to the main room, and exit without ever seeing another patient. It's kind of nice.

Anyway, I got in at about 3:50pm and took a seat. It's a small room, so there's only two chairs and a small coffee table with magazines on it. I just played on my iPhone while I waited. I could hear my chiropractor talking to her current patient. I was bored so I tried to listen. Something about camping. It sounds boring. Then, out of nowhere, the exit door sounds like it has been kicked in and a deep, bellowing male voice yells "GET ON THE FLOOR!"

I practically have a heart attack but somehow remain quiet. This is everything I have ever daydreamed of, and suddenly I have been thrown into it. I don't know what's going on but it doesn't sound good. I wonder why on earth someone would attack a tiny chiropractors office. They don't even have anything worth stealing unless you're after a comfy massage table or a model of a spine. But I didn't have time to think of that. I had two options. I could exit the waiting room and go in through the exit door...good plan there, I'm sure that would have gone incredibly well: "excuse me, oh you have a gun...i best be off" OR I could go through the door that links the waiting room with the office...which is locked.

I think for a second, because a second is all I have. My heart is beating like a bitch and I wonder if you can die from adrenalin. I have no idea what is behind the door but I can tell from the cries behind the door that this gentleman was not invited.

I picked up one of the waiting room chairs, quietly, and I knock on the door three times. "WHO THE FUCK IS THAT?" he yells through the door. Now, I don't know how I managed this but I did and I am awfully proud of myself for it. I put on an old ladies voice "it's Beryl. My appointment was supposed to be at 3:45 and I'm in a terrible hurry." My heart continues to beat itself through my chest. Not even my hoodie can hide it. I hear the footsteps through the door...he is coming. The chair is in front of me, like a shield, its legs facing outwards. "STAY ON THE FLOOR" he yells, before unclicking the lock. WHAT THE FUCK AM I DOING I think to myself. I am Tim, standing not much taller than 6 foot and weighing mildly more than a female supermodel, I'm hardly someone to be feared. But adrenalin is a beautiful thing. The door handle turns and the door opens quickly. I charge straight through the door, plowing over the intruder. I might not weigh much but with the force I hit him he falls over backwards. The other patient screams while my chiropractor also looks like she is in shock.

It turns out the guy isn't built like a brick shithouse, so this is good for me. Maybe he weighed about 85kg? More than me, but not so much that would have rendered me useless. I had made him fall backwards. He had no gun, just a small knife. He takes a swipe from the ground and cuts my leg. It hurt, and a trickle of blood starts to stain my jeans. I bashed him again with the chair and then planted the leg down on his arm. That was for my jeans. I didn't know I could move that quick!!? The force on his arm makes him drop the knife, my foot kicks it away, and then swiftly kicks the guy in the head. He's a bit weaker now. I hit him again over the head with the chair and he looks as though he's about to pass out. "COPS NOW!" I yell at my chiropractor. She seems ok. She rushes to her desk and calls 000.

At this time, semi-unconscious-but-still-environmentally-aware intruder is lying on the ground. His eyes fixed on mine. I have the chair still, ready to strike if he tries to move. He tests me, by twitching his leg. I respond by kicking him in the ribs. Thankfully the guy stays down.

The cops arrived after that. The response time of Melbourne's finest is to be commended. I ended up down at the station, giving reports and the like. It turned into a long night and after all of that, I never got my neck crunched. I did get my leg bandaged though. The paramedic also said that she thinks my jeans could be quite easily fixed. I wasn't happy about the cut in them.

One thing I've learnt doing this? There's no drug like adrenalin. However, I do wonder how I'll get to sleep tonight.