I WAS A PLEASANT CHILD...
But every now and then I had to open up a can of whoop ass. I was sort of quiet and I still am to this day. It's the quiet ones you have to worry about, you know.
My first memory of clobbering someone was at about age 3 - 4. I was playing "house", by myself on our back porch. A boy from next door, a little older than me, came over and started throwing leaves on my porch. I was sweeping them off with a little toy broom. Every time I would get them swept away, he would throw down more leaves. I told him to stop a time or two, but this only amused him more. So I deployed the only solution I could see handily before me and smashed him over his noggin with that little toy broom.
He ran screaming to his mommy and pointing at the El Kabong lump growing on his gourd. His mom was pretty mad and she came over to confront the big bad 3 year old.
My mom came out and the two moms had words, which ended with my mom chasing his mom back into her house - with a broom. The woman had insisted that mom spank me in front of her and her rotten kid. My mom said she would rather just give HER a grown-up style beating instead.
Cause see, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. I got my scrappy side honest. Directly from Dear Ole Ma.
When I was about 8, I got jumped by three boys. I whooped all 3 asses and then went home for lunch. I didn't even mention the fighting to my parents. Looking back, my attitude was that it was all in a days work. Sometimes you gots to bring the hammer down to keep your place in the food chain.
I was hanging out with my dad, watching cartoons, and the doorbell rang. Dad went to the door and found an angry dad and his blubbering (and quite large) male child. The dad said he was there to confront the bully who beat up his boy. My dad tried to say that he must have the wrong house but the boy was shaking his head and saying this is the right house.
So Dad called me to the door. When I got there, my dad put his arm around me and said to the other father, "Is this the bully that beat up your kid?" As the blubbering boy shook his head in the affirmative, his dad said incredulously "It was a little girl????" He then apologized for disturbing us, grabbed his kid by the nape of the neck, and went home. He looked thoroughly disgusted. I'll bet homey got dat ass whooped again when he got home.
I looked up at my dad and he had THE MOST AMUSED expression on his face. After that, when I went outside to play, my mom would say "You'd better not be out there fighting" and my dad would whisper to me before I got out the door: "Kick some butt".
Every time I ever fought, I was smaller and younger than the other kid / person, so I think I had the element of surprise working for me. I also always throw the first hit, another element of surprise. When people are in the midst of shit talking, they don't think you are going to haul off and bust them in their grill right then. But that's where they be wrong.
The last time I was in a physical scrap was a few years ago actually. I called a repair man that I had relied upon for years to fix things at my house. He was frustrating to use, because he would always drag it out for an all day affair, but he was cheap, so I kept calling him. He always came out twice on any call. The first visit, he would see what he needed to complete the repair. The second trip out, he actually fixed it.
This particular day, he came to look at the garage door opener. He took a small electrical component off it and went home to try to match it or repair it. He came back later and said he couldn't fix it or replace it. When he gave me the bill, he was trying to charge me for 2 service calls - double the price as usual. We argued. I refused to pay for 2 visits. He had made 2 visits every time he ever worked for me and never once had charged me double. We were at a stand-off. I saw his beady eyes set upon the little electrical component and knew what he was planning just as he did it. He hopped into my house and grabbed it while saying "I'll just take this with me until you decide to pay the full amount".
I stood there not believing it for about 3 seconds... and then I just dived out the door right onto him. I said "Oh no you're NOT!" I proceeded to wrestle him down and ultimately I couldn't get it away from him. His arms were too much longer than mine and he was holding the component way up over my reach. I had him in a head lock for a while. It's funny now, but I was serious as a heart attack then.
I could see that I was not going to be able to take it from him that way, so I broke away and put myself in front of his truck door. I said "You ain't going nowhere with that part from my garage door opener". Just then, my then-husband came to the door. He was standing there laughing and he said "Um, you'd better give it to her... I don't think she's playing with you." hahaha.
He gave it back. We never called him again. The end.
I didn't think about it at all before I dived out the door. I just did it. To look at me, you'd never ever expect me to attack a man. haha. I really am very feminine and lady-like. I guess desperate times call for desperate measures. I hope I never find myself in the midst of a air born attack dive towards some person again, but I know it can happen. I'm not ashamed of any kid fighting I did, but the adult stuff could get embarassing, and is most definitely for emergencies only.
I'm hungry and if I don't get something to eat around here, I'm gonna beat some asses.