Originally Posted by *******

Well, tonight was an odd night to say the least.
My girlfriend works at a Japanese restaurant. I had a tough workout today. I had already had my shake, and I was craving for some sushi. So I called my girl at work right before they closed, and asked her if they were still taking orders. She let me go ahead and make a pick-up, and so I got down there. Now comes the really interesting part.

I walk in and the owner and everyone are being pretty nice. So I walk up to the sushi bar, and it looks like the guy's making everything pretty fast. He looked rather annoyed. Didn't look up at me, didn't say a thing. I have had a few conversations with him in the past, he seemed nice enough. Vietnamese guy in his early twenties. Somehow I felt bad for the guy, he was having to make one last order before he left for the night. So naturally the first words out of my mouth were, "Sorry to do this to you so late, man."

The guy kept right on making sushi, didn't look up at me, didn't respond, didn't acknowledge that I was standing there. I was still trying to be cordial.

"So how you been man?"

No answer. No reaction. And he was clearly ignoring me on purpose.

"Look, I tried to get Anna [my girl] to punch the order in earlier, but your boss had me on hold forever before I even got a chance to talk to her." (This was true.)

Still no answer. This guy was being a little prick and it was starting to piss me off. I stared at him for what seemed like forever. Then:

"I don't know how you were brought up but where I come from it's customary to say hello, even if you're in the middle of something."

No change in his demeanor. I could tell he was getting angry, but he still refused to acknowledge my presence. Meanwhile I was becoming angrier as well.

"If you have a problem with me, you can look me in the eye and tell me so." Silence. Then... "Are you fucking deaf, I'm talking to you!"

He still says nothing. Goes right on cleaning up after making the sushi.

"Fine. Then I'll see you outside." Yeah, I was pissed enough to say that.

About a minute goes by and he says nothing. Then to my surprise, he opens his mouth. "You want to fight me? Is that what you said?"

I grit my teeth. What a fucking little shit. "I want to know what the fuck your problem is."

"You wanna fight me, ok. I just want to get home," he replied. I just stared at him, wondering how his urge to get off work was an excuse for the disrespect he was showing me.

So he comes around to the front of the bar and starts wiping it down. I stand there in his way with my arms folded. He gets to where I am and tries to clean around me for a second, then starts putting some of his weight into me. I put my weight right back into him, and I outweigh him by quite a bit. He loses his balance momentarily. He says "Hey man don't fucking touch me, you put your hands on me and that's it," as if the fucker didn't try to shove me out of the way first. He was already looking to start shit and he knew that I knew it.

I looked at him with a smirk of disbelief. "You, fight with me? Does that seem fair? I think we both know who would win."

"Oh you wanna see me kick your ass?" he said. Or something like that. He talked some more shit after that, but he was so flustered that I had a hard time understanding what he was talking about. Then he walked over to a more open space in the restaurant (pretty cramped in the whole place in general).

After advising him to take his sushi and shove it up his ass, I followed him over there. He talked some more shit to me that I can't remember word for word, just standing there. I stepped towards him and faced him squarely. "Let's take it outside," I suggested.

"Let's go right here," he said.

I smirked. "Come on, be a gentleman. We do this outside." (There were two ladies present, one of whom was my girlfriend.)

"I'm right fucking here, why don't you hit me," he said. Then he feinted a jab at me, and of all things started laughing as though it were some big joke - as if I were a joke. This right here, pushed me past the point of reason. That was too much disrespect. I grabbed him by the throat with my right hand and dug my fingers in. I probably should have just punched him a couple times in the nose right then and there, but it was weird, I was so angry that the first thing I thought of was going for his throat. For about half a second there was this look of shock on his face before he slipped out of it (I didn't have time to back him up to a wall to pin his neck) and then all hell broke loose.

Now you gotta keep in mind that this guy was pretty light and fast, but it was like putting a featherweight against a heavyweight. He had very little chance of hurting me because I was much, much thicker than him and he didn't have any particularly exceptional fighting skills to make up for the size difference. He did manage to get in a few pretty accurate shots to the face during the course of the fight, and it didn't hurt me at all, didn't do shit. (Later on I would find a tiny little knot on the side of my nose that looks like a mosquito bite. The guy was just weak.)

I remember hitting him, him hitting me, me chasing him around trying to get hold of him, we were all over the place. When he hit me for like the third time I sort of lost my patience with him and really hit him hard at least once or twice. I distinctly remember my right hook connecting just near the outer part of his eye socket, and I had held nothing back with that punch. I think I must have hit him in the nose, too. I remember him staggering back and trying to pull me with him, then he lost his grip, and he fell backwards, knocking over a table.

What I wasn't aware of was how hard I had actually hit this guy. More on that in a minute.

When he got up I got a hold of him and put him in a choke hold so hard that he couldn't breathe. He struggled without success. I screamed in his ear, "You sorry now, motherfucker?" About that time, the boss and the manager came to break it up. They told me to let him go, after a few seconds, I grudgingly released him.

The guy was still trying to get at me even though the manager was now holding him from behind, and I caught my first glimpse at what those couple of hits had done to him. I was pretty surprised, I knew I'd hit him hard, but not THAT hard. I had busted his eye - blood was literally pouring out from where the skin had split open just underneath his left eyebrow. His nose was also bleeding profusely. Basically his face was covered in blood, trickling down his face and neck, quickly soaking into his shirt from the neck down. I looked down at my hands and forearms. They were smeared with so much blood and NONE OF IT was mine. I figured it must have gotten all over me when I had him in the choke hold, and I hadn't noticed at the time.

Somehow the guy broke free from the manager who was holding him and rushed me. I was being held back as well by the owner, but I was able to lunge forward and grab the face of the guy I was fighting with, and I sunk my thumb into his eye. Not too hard - I didn't want to blind the little prick - but I did it hard enough to make a point. He managed to kick me in the abdomen, but it didn't have much of an effect on me besides knock me back about one step. I grabbed him and was about to pound him again, but we were pulled away from each other again by the two other guys. Somehow, during this last exchange, my shirt was torn. When we were separated this time I didn't really fight it. I had no argument with the other two guys there, and I left willingly.

I remember watching from my car after I'd been told to leave the restaurant, seeing that guy bleeding all over himself. His shirt was soaked with blood now, and the two other guys there were trying to stop the bleeding with rags. And he was all fucking acting up at me through the window, like he was talking shit. I just smirked at him and tapped my eyebrow with my index finger, as if to say "that's a nasty cut you got there."

My girl followed me home in her car. Here I was, driving with a torn shirt and some guy's blood smeared all over my hands, arms, and clothes. (I later even found out looking in the mirror, that some of his blood had actually splattered on my face.) It would have looked KINDA bad if I were to get pulled over at this point.

Part of me wishes that no one had been there to break up the fight, just so I could have finished what I started. Another part of me is glad that someone was able to interfere, because if I had managed to finish what I started, I would have hospitalized the guy. As it is, he'll need stitches.

Some fucking people on this planet, man! All he had to do is show me the common fucking courtesy and respect that every human being deserves. How hard is that? You can only provoke a guy so much before he reaches his limit, and tonight I had reached mine with him. If he had started out friendly like I had, things would have played out quite differently. As it is, he provoked me for no apparent reason.

Oh well. My girlfriend has wanted to quit that job for a while, and now she has the excuse she needs.

The one thing that amuses me is that the guy left me with only a knuckle mark on my face that resembles a fucking mosquito bite, and it's already almost gone after only a few hours. There's also a knot on my left forearm where I blocked one of his shots. That was the best he could do. Other than that, there are no sore spots, no indications that I was in a fight at all. My knuckles don't even hurt very much. If my memory of the incident were somehow erased right at this moment, I would never be able to tell that I'd been in a fight. I'd assume the little bump on my face had been caused by bumping into the bedside table in my sleep or something odd like that.

He, on the other hand, will most likely have scars for a long time to come.

Originally Posted by Var

Guess I can just relate to how pissed I'd be in that situation. Also, I'm not bigger than anyone, so I dont have to worry about being a "bully"

Originally Posted by aggies1ut

I may not physically intimidate anyone, but I could sure run someone over with my car.