When was the last time you were in a fistfight?

Maybe they said that you were in their pants.

Joe(I get confused)Nation

The Quickest Fight I Never Had.

Halloween, my senior year in high school, my best friend and I went to a party...{wow, 20 years ago} dressed as a cowboy and an Indian...I was the Indian...quasi Comanche I suppose....suede vest, flat brimmed cowboy hat, blue jeans tucked into the moccasins, combed my hair straight and braided it, and tied rawhide straps around the top of my triceps. We didn't really have any particular theme going, when asked we would make something up on the spot....Lone Ranger and Tonto, but we didn't do that anymore because we sold all the silver bullets and our horses for beer money.....part of the Village People, but they found out that we were straight and kicked us out of the band...etc.

The party was at my friends aunts house, and most of the people there were her co-workers from Wal-Mart, adults, 30ish...we were both 17 at the time. We were only allowed to attend the party if we promised not to...well, kill anyone. The entire night was quite eventful, and could easily be turned into one of those "one night in a small town" movies, but I'll just stick to the "fight" for now.

When I was younger, no matter where I went, a party, a bar, a carnival..the movies...there was always some guy that took offence at my long hair {the earings didn't help much either} and most of the time, once I, or one of my friends told them I was a guitar player...they would let it go. But, every once and a while along came a guy that just would not quit. I'm not one to rile easily, especially about my hair, I got immune to it I suppose, but sometimes....sometimes you just gotta knock there ass out.

After the eventful night that I alluded to, we decided to just sit at the dinning room table and chat with our fellow Halloweeners. Once everyone figured out who we were...those two kids that come into Wal-Mart every day and hit a few golf balls down the isles, or race bikes around the toy department, loosening the clasps on the inflatable ball holding pen, lots of laughter ensued....everyone was drunk, and had forgot we were the Wally World Terrorists by Monday.

But, then of course some guy that was sitting with us, decided that he could no longer keep quiet about my appearance, and began to chide me...the usual crap..."Where is your purse" {one of my personal favorites} remembering my promise to behave...I simply ignored him. This only angered him and he verbally tore into me twice, and then after several minutes of not getting a response out of me, thrice fold. At first his wife was trying to get him to be quiet, but as he became more excited, I guess she siphoned off some of his energy and ended up egging him on...."Whoop his ass Roy". So, I looked at my buddy and said...If he swings?...my buddy nodded, and I sat patiently awaiting for his old-drunk-rambling-guy swing.

For some reason, everyone {except me} at the table just happened to look away from him at the exact same time that he built up enough courage to make his move. He jumped up out of his chair, but instead of coming across the table at me, he went backwards, sort of doing a backflip into the wall behind him. The huge crash made everyone look back at him, and seeing that he was now a crumpled bleeding heap lying upside down in the floor, feet dangling on the back of his chair...they then of course looked at me. I swore that I had not touched him, but nobody believed me...my buddy who knows that I have very fast reflexes, was even amazed at my speed, and to this day does not believe that I never touched the guy....about ten years ago he conceded that perhaps I did not punch him, but I must have hooked his chair with my foot or something.

If I remember right, the guy dislocated his hip and shoulder and his face was just smashed and scraped all to hell, he was lucky to not break his neck. Imagine leaning back in a chair, with your head actually behind the chair, and then flipping it backwards into a wall very quickly...the dude was f'ed up. They had to carry the guy out and put him in his car...and the whole time his wife was screaming at me...."Look what you did to Roy" over and over....we left the party shortly after that.

Anyway, I was never allowed back at their house for another party....actually I think I was banned from the house all together. Even though I am 100% innocent, I have yet to be cleared of the charges.

suuuuuure you aare 2 packs

I know your type, with your long hair and your girly earings. Yer a girly man aintcha. Yeah! Hehe Hey! earing boy, Why dont you get a haircut and get a job ya lazy good for nothing..... CRASH!

Everyone steals my ideas... last Sunday Andy Rooney did a riff on my everybody in New York MUST carry a bag bit and now this:

Street Fighting Man or Men or Some Jerks


Joe(mostly jerks)Nation

good one 2 packs.

so where IS your purse you long haired girly man?

A small one when I was a graduate student (about 30 years ago), in the physics building, with another physics graduate student.

Prior to that, when I was a college freshman, a big fight that broke furniture. In the latter case, someone had been in my face for too long, so I insulted him repeatedly one night until he had no choice but to either fight or slink away.

I believe you. Sure, I do. Well, mostly I do... actually, could you ask Roy to stop by and give us his side of the story?

DP - In my mind, all Aussies are bad-asses, so let's not ruin that.

Chai - I got me one of them things called a wife, and she totes my man purse around for me in public, in private I hold it myself...playing with the clasp as I type.

J - There could be pictures, I'm almost certain there were some taken, but I've never seen one though, and doubt I ever will....I'm sure I am still banned from that household.

I don't think the guys name was Roy, but it was some sort of one syllable "country" name....Earl maybe....next time I see my buddy I'll ask him if he remembers the guys name. Might be awhile though, the only time I see him is when I run into him during his route...he is the Miller Beer man in these parts, and I work all over the place, so our paths often converge at convenience stores.

2packs: I was in a fight I wasn't in too. Not the same as yours though.

USAF Basic Training Barracks (1967) I was in the rotation of the other recruits on "Fire Duty" meaning, while the others are sleeping, you patrol around the barracks (trying not to fall asleep). Everyone else was supposed to be asleep, but there was a group of four or five guys talking loudly down at the end of the second floor. A couple of other guys said I should tell them to pipe down.
I did.
Nicely, I thought.
One of them got up. A big guy, someone I had talked to before and who had seemed okay. He took one step towards me, said something about 'Why don't you... .?"

There was kind of a bright flash of light and the next thing I knew two guys were picking me up from the top of the fire escape.

As they told me later, apparently big guy had gotten a letter from his wife and she was ill somehow and he was upset and telling those other guys about when I showed up.
Big Guy was also a Golden Gloves competitor.
He told me later, during his apology, that he used a left to set me up for the big right that sent me sailing through the fire escape door, out cold.

He said it scared him to death to see me almost go flying off the end of the fire escape. He thought he had killed me.

Joe(we became real friends)Nation

Ah, male bonding.

Well, I'm going to look horrible here....

Fist Fights? HA! I was 34/35 during the last one, but I'm not going to talk about that one (No, I didn't get my ass whooped, but it was who I was fighting that I would rather not discuss or the circumstances around it)

I've had the unfortunate experience of being in several good old fashion fist-fights. There are a few that stick out in my mind, some that are funny now, and some I have regretted. I've never went looking for a fight, but if it comes to me, I've never backed down from obliging it. I'm going to stand my ground, even if it means I have to get on my knees in the dirt before its overwith. Hmm, seems the only one's I've allowed to run me over are my own family...then at times, enough was enough...

One that sticks out in my mind, I was 28, well....ya'll know my sister, my father had passed away and hadn't been buried yet, we were in his home and I was in charge of picking out his clothing for him to be buried in. Of course, to my sisters distaste, I didn't pick the right outfit for him. She run her mouth at me one too many times, and the next thing I know...I punched her right in the mouth, knocked her through his closet door and into the floor, then piled on her ass right there in front of my Preacher Uncle and my Aunt who had to pull me off of her......She looked funny with a fat lip at the funeral....now that I think about it.

This fist fight at 23, it involved too much moonshine. The fight got started over a lie told (not by me), a set of car keys jerked out of the ignition, my arm being cut in the process....and the next thing I know is that we are rolling out of the passenger door of the car into the ditch. It was one helluva fight too. We whooped the piss out of one another that night...and were still best of friends for a long time afterwards....

At 22, well...I was provoked. Of course! All I will say is she shouldn't have put her finger in my face and called me a Bitch, because that was the last straw. The next thing I know, I had done punched her in the mouth and crawled all up in her ****. My husband is pulling me off of her, in the meantime, each time he would try to grab my arm to stop me from punching her, I punched him with my elbow which throwed him off and I'd return to hit her. (I had her around the back of the neck with one hand, so she wasn't going anywhere) This went down in the middle of a county road, so I had plenty of witnesses. To say the least, I had done something many in our circle of friends had been wanting to do for years.....still talked about to this day too, and laugh about me doing more whooping on my husband than I probably did her. That woman to this day still tippy toes around me, as well she should. She damn sure don't point fingers at me anymore either...She's my frweeend....

I need to stop here...lmao, talk about joggin' the memory. Seems that Bitch word and that finger pointing has started more than one fight in my life, some even involved a man or two...over it. (OMG, I'm HORRIBLE)

SHIVERS!!!!!

Where the hell you been girl!!!!????

Ha...love that story about before your fathers funeral.

For me it was a little over 15 years ago when my abusive ex hit me for the last time.

He punched me in the face, turned around to walk away and I tackled him. Got him on the floor, face down, my hands filled with his hair and smashed his face against the floor (don't remember how many times) until I damn near killed him.

For some reason he never hit me again

Joe, that first story you told was priceless and the second one a good one too :-D

Me?? Been so long ago I'd almost need hypnosis or some such to recall.

My father on the other hand... 92 Years old, bout a week and a half ago some clown in the place where he lives figured he was playing music too loud and tried to run him over in his (the clown's) wheelchair and my old man punches the guy in the nose at least hard enough they had to bandage his hand. Bad childhood and then FDR and the "new deal"... No real way to expect some one like that to behave normally.

I cannot remember the last time I took a swing at anyone. A few have been thrown my way but those disputes were usually resolved quite quickly and in my favor. The last was probably in middle school.

Shot anyone lately?

Snood, cj is bein nice of late (maybe for the Holidays )

Don't make him shoot at ya...

RH

Welcome back, shiver.
People are always a little nuts at funerals and the ones who were a little nuts before the funeral get nuttier still.

Montana: way to go.

Joe(always stop just short of killing the s.o.b.)Nation