I was in a
fight the other day.
It was an
experience that I think worthy of recording.
The reason
it stands out as such a triumph is because it not only gave me a cold splash of
water in the face of reality, but also had me act counter-culture to what would
perhaps be considered good and decent in the world of today.
I stood up
for myself.
A silly argument
not even worthy of recollection led to a knife being drawn.
Being a
person of character, I have found myself in unique and questionable situations
in the past, offering wisdom and experience for most odd-out-of-the-blue realities
that sometimes just have to make themselves known.
This,
however, was a unique experience with no real guidance from my coloured past.
My first
response upon seeing a weapon drawn was to take advantage of my superior height
and size and attempt to neutralise the threat. Or, in basic English, I reached
for the knife.
There was
no thought involved, just reaction.
In years
now long turned to memory, I did train in karate at a fairly competitive level.
I did spend a little bit of time in the military. I recently completed a very
serious six-month weight training program.
It was odd. My conscious thoughts were put on hold as instinct flooded
my rational thinking with basic situational thoughts.
Everything
in my life that had been bothering me up to the point of spotting the knife was
just instantly gone. Knowledge of my name was absent as my full attention was
on my adversary, his weapon, and proximity to the rail –we were on the balcony
of a 15th story apartment.
I wish I
could explain better the certain intensity and focus I felt.
This all
happened within a second.
I lashed
out –discovering later knife wounds on my hands—and tried to wrestle the knife
away. I have the clear advantage. I am twice his weight and a foot-and-a-half
taller than he is. I know this might make me sound like a bully, but this is a
part where Society is wrong. Yes, as will be mentioned very shortly, I kicked
the shit out of a small man. Where I thumb my nose at Society is that he had a
knife and his eyes displayed an intention that was not friendly.
I reacted.
Details are
fuzzy, but I do remember grabbing his wrist with one hand and punching him with
the other. It was a few days later that I discovered his injuries, while not
life-threatening, sure seemed to hurt him a bunch. Visible damage has him
constantly having to explain himself. I am sure he spins it well, with him as
the victim. That’s fine. He pulled a knife and I beat him up. Despite his
attempts to win the hearts and minds of our co-workers, he is not getting the
sympathy that he very likely feels he deserves. People are rational. There is
still a part of our society that respects freedom. People are now afraid to
stick up for themselves due to their fear that they will suffer the repercussions.
I can at
least say that I was attacked and I stood up for myself. Yes, the poor lil’
feller was on the wee side of the scale, but still, when flashing a knife, he
was the most dangerous thing on the planet.
There are
readers who are now horrified, and there are readers who shake their head at
how tame the event actually was. Personal tragedy it most certainly was not,
however, in terms of personal victories, I think it has earned a place on the
shelf.
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