While stationed at Chanute AFB, one sunny afternoon, there was a phone call in the dorm. There was a community pay phone midway the hallway, and I answered. It was for her, and I told the male caller that I would knock on her door. I did, and there was no answer. I went back to the phone, told the caller that she was not there, and asked if he wanted to leave a message. Don't think I had a sudden attack of "nice". I didn't want to do it, but I believed in (and still do) "do unto others blah de blah, blah". Unfortunately, the male caller was a jackass, and proceeded to tell me that I way lieing, called me a couple of racial names, and demanded that I get her to the phone. Well, Airman Scovens wasn't going to listen, and Joanne from Lexington Terrace was lurking just below the surace waiting to take over the reigns at any time. After I told him what I thought about him and his hillbilly girlfriend, I hung up, went to back to my room and wrote the girl a note. I think I said something like "tell your ignorant friends that no one has to go and get you, or take any notes, and if you want to discuss this note, meet me in the tv room". I taped the note to the door, and went to the tv room to await her arrival. I knew she would come because she was just that kind of nerd. I think I already knew that I was going to beat her up. True to form, here she came, talking in that high-pitched country voice, and waiving that note, which I knew I had to get back. Too much evidence. She yelled out my name, and man, I could hardly wait to answer. She started screaming about me leaving such a vulgar note on her door, etc. I can remember that I felt such an internal satisfaction that I had rattled her chain. I happened to be eating an apple at the time, so I continued to eat while she vented. After I finished with my apple, I calmly walked over to the trash can, threw in the core and then turned to her. This stupid girl had followed me across the room to the trash can! I don't even remember what else she was saying. I just knew that I was ready to dust her off. I snatched the note out of her hand and was about to put it into the pocket of my fatigue pants when she tried to grab it from me and made the mistake of touching my hand! HOUSTON, WE HAVE TOUCHDOWN! My time had finally come. I hit that girl so hard that her glasses flew one way and she flew the other. She tried to get up, but I rushed her; and to say that I thoroughly pummeled her would be too easy of a description and too much of an understatement. Some of our fellow airmen broke up the ruckus, helped her pull herself together, and I headed for the First Sergeant's office. I knew that's where I was going to end up, and that was just fine with me. I was feeling quite justified and satisfied. She should have never put her hands on me AT ALL. After the First Shirt (as we called him) got both sides of the story, I was released and she was told to "check" her friends. Needless to say, I felt very vendicated on that wash-back thing, and she never spoke to me again. Furthermore, the Drill Sergeant from Basic lied. I haven't heard a word from her yet!