No adjectives

On a Monday that was said to be the anniversary of my birth, I found myself bound to the leg of a table. I was unaware of how I got there, I could only accept it as fact. What was there to do?
“Hey! What're ya lookin' at?” The man sitting on the counter said.
I stumbled for an answer. “I... I don't... know...The floor?”
The man lunged forward and slapped me. My face stung as the blood flowed down my chin and onto my chest. He shook his hand and returned back to his spot on the counter. “That's some mouth ya got there... Hate to see it broken.”
I lowered my head so that he couldn't see me roll my eyes. I looked at him and cocked my eyebrow. “What are you planning on doing to me?” I inquired. He wasn't expecting my question. This was evident as he struggled to find words.
“Well... first I'm gonna...” I didn't listen to the rest of his tirade because I had other things to do. I had to figure out a way out of this place.