Where I grew up in Southwestern Ohio we called guys like this Tush Hogs, and they were people not to f'ck with. If you got out of line in some of the places I hung out in, you were very liable to get an ass whipping, just like what happened to the jack-off who threw the cue ball off the table. That guy learned a lesson he will never forget. I learned a similar lesson years ago that I recounted in my second book.
Notice that the tough guy (and he was definitely a bad ass imo) did not follow up after he knocked the guy down and probably out cold. He knew from experience that this fight was over. This guy had been in street fights before and probably did some damage to some pretty tough dudes. He was very calm after he took care of business and walked out the door. This was not the first guy he whacked out like that.
Of course, in this day and age, many fights end with someone getting shot. But even if you are carrying, you better have the balls to use it before you get clobbered. I learned long ago to never brandish a weapon unless you were ready to use it. Don't get caught bluffing, in other words.
I'm not a tough guy by any means, but I was taught how to protect myself by a couple of guys who were. One of them gave me my first little .25, and took me into the woods and showed me how to use it properly. He made a point to let me know that it was for close quarters protection, when I really felt threatened. I carried that little piece in the back pocket of my jeans for the next fifteen years and only took it out once, when two guys tried to rob me outside my poolroom in Bakersfield. They backed up quick when they saw the gun. One more step and I was ready to pull the trigger, they were that close and one had a fairly large blade in his hands.
One time I got in a jam with a dangerous guy they called Charlie the Ape, and he did look like an ape, and was strong as a bull. We beat him out of a lot of money and he was really PISSED! For a moment I thought about my little gun, and then had second thoughts. It might just piss him off more and he might decide to kill me with his bare hands. I calmed him down enough so that I could sneak out the back and jump in my Vette and get the Hell out of there. The next time I saw him he just laughed about it. He said, "I bet you were scared, weren't you?" I told him yes, I was pretty concerned at the time.
Notice that the tough guy (and he was definitely a bad ass imo) did not follow up after he knocked the guy down and probably out cold. He knew from experience that this fight was over. This guy had been in street fights before and probably did some damage to some pretty tough dudes. He was very calm after he took care of business and walked out the door. This was not the first guy he whacked out like that.
Of course, in this day and age, many fights end with someone getting shot. But even if you are carrying, you better have the balls to use it before you get clobbered. I learned long ago to never brandish a weapon unless you were ready to use it. Don't get caught bluffing, in other words.
I'm not a tough guy by any means, but I was taught how to protect myself by a couple of guys who were. One of them gave me my first little .25, and took me into the woods and showed me how to use it properly. He made a point to let me know that it was for close quarters protection, when I really felt threatened. I carried that little piece in the back pocket of my jeans for the next fifteen years and only took it out once, when two guys tried to rob me outside my poolroom in Bakersfield. They backed up quick when they saw the gun. One more step and I was ready to pull the trigger, they were that close and one had a fairly large blade in his hands.
One time I got in a jam with a dangerous guy they called Charlie the Ape, and he did look like an ape, and was strong as a bull. We beat him out of a lot of money and he was really PISSED! For a moment I thought about my little gun, and then had second thoughts. It might just piss him off more and he might decide to kill me with his bare hands. I calmed him down enough so that I could sneak out the back and jump in my Vette and get the Hell out of there. The next time I saw him he just laughed about it. He said, "I bet you were scared, weren't you?" I told him yes, I was pretty concerned at the time.
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