Fightin' Irish

I used to work with this woman, Natalie. She was about forty and sweet as can be. Every shift with her had me doubled over laughing. She had such a hilarious way about her and it seemed impossible for her to not be funny as hell. One afternoon, Natalie, Kathy and I were talking about fights we'd been in during our youth. Kathy, from Chicago's South Side, had some that made us all a little afraid. Natalie then told us that she used to get into fights all the time. I was a tad stunned. Natalie? Fight? I mean, she looked as though she'd spent her adolescence making daisy chains in a meadow. Oh, how wrong I was. She then proceeded to tell us how at age 21 when she was hanging out with her then boyfriend and future husband that her sister said something to piss her off. Natalie grabbed her sister by the back of her head and then started smashing her fist repeatedly into her sister's face. Natalie actually broke her hand from doing this; oh, and her sister had just finished recovering from a nose job. In case you were curious, Jersey girls fight for reals; no hair pulling and scratching. We go full tilt boogie.