thinking about this question and LOL - I think I see a correlation between my telling tales of fistfights yesterday, and the fact that on D-Day when the news broke my father's father ran down to the USMC recruiter to join the infantry and go kill Nipshttps://twitter.com/amytheartist/status/1166174282944307202 …
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oh, so this reminds me that I didn't yet tell the story of how I punched a hole in a guy's windshield (spoiler: no, I'm not remotely as bad ass as that story title implies) I was at the Lowes in Woburn MA. Parked the truck, had a tape measure in my right hand. Walking to door.
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My hands aren't God-awful huge. but they're big. So the steel-bodied tape measure is pretty much entirely in the palm of my hand. Walk down the parking aisle, now crossing the strip of asphalt towards front door. Guy in a pickup is in the diagonal-paint-slashed no parkking zone
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and he's rolling forward at 1mph I'm crossing the asphalt towards the front door, in a cross walk, at 1mph we're each 50 feet away from the door ...and it's obvious that if one of us doesn't stop, we're going to intersect in x,y,z, and t coordinates
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but I'm in a cross walk. Where I should be. And he's in a no parking / no standing / no anything zone. Where he shouldn't be. So I keep walking. Like the Stamper's in Ken Kessey's "Sometimes a Great Notion" : never give an inch!
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so then we're each 20' away then each 10' then each 5' !@# Michael Bolton. He's the one who sucks. Why should I stop walking. So ... then ...
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We intersect. His front wheel rolls over my right foot. His window is down. I'm 18" away from the seated driver. I say "YOU ARE PARKED. ON. MY. FOOT. MOVE!" And for emphasis on the word "move!" I BANG HARD on his windshield. With my right fist.
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...which is wrapped around a steel tape measure. With, it turns out, 1/4 of one inch of steel sticking out the bottom of my fist. And that corner of the tape measure hits his windshield. With the entire force of my hammer fist. <SMASH> His windshield shatters.
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and there is a 1/2" HOLE right through the windshield where the tape measure hit. And there's a decent bit of my blood around the hole.
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But I don't even know this. I just STARE at him. And he BLANCHES. And puts the truck into reverse, and backs off my foot. And I resume my [ straight line ] path to the front door of Lowes.
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(it all happened so quickly that I didn't realize that I was cut until later, and I'm sure he didn't realize that I had a tape measure in my hand - he just thought he had had the bad luck to run into an insanely strong lunatic)
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