Fighting vs Being a Bitch
Oct 27, 2019 2:08:58 GMT -5
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Post by tuckerblane on Oct 27, 2019 2:08:58 GMT -5
I went to my cousin’s house tonight for a Halloween party. It’s always a good time there. Tonight... was another story.
He’s got a friend who thinks he can scare people. More times than not he’s just weird to the point of making people uncomfortable.
It’s hard to fuck with my head. I worked in a psych ward for three years. My job was literally taking care of literal psychotics and sociopaths. None of them were like Hannibal Lecter although a few thought they were on his level. They weren’t.
After explaining to this guy, that I’ve known for over 20 years, that his little games can’t work on me because I’ve seen and experienced much worse than him, he took that as a challenge. He failed every time. It got to the point where ignoring him made it worse and feeding into his delusion only made him try harder.
At the end of the night, about 0030, he's picked up a wooden folding chair and he’s got it cocked back like he’s going to hit someone. I look up and see that the back of the seat is what he’s attempting to use to hit someone with; or at the very least just threatening. So, having grown up on pro wrestling, I tell him to turn the chair around so the flat part makes impact and won’t pop open on him. He yelled at me to shut up and then smacked me in the face when I wasn’t looking.
Without hesitation, I stood up, took off my glasses, my jacket, and emptied my pockets. He’s already backed up ten feet. We were outside. I looked him dead in the eye and asked him if this is what he wanted. He said yes so I took out my denture and dropped it on the chair. At that point six people rushed between us to keep us apart.
He knew he fucked up the moment he smacked me.
He knew I wasn’t fucking around when i stood up.
He knew he was about to die when I took my teeth out. He actually froze and his eyes widened when he saw that. He’d seen it several times that night as I did it to fuck with people.
He tried to make things right by apologizing but his words and his vocal tone didn’t match up. So as he came close to “give me a hug” I grabbed his beard and pulled him face to face. Forehead to forehead.
“You’ve got one shot. Make it count.”
He froze. At that point people again are pulling us apart.
I know he’s a fighter. Normally he’s beating the shit out of drunk assholes. Only difference is I had two beers all night long and I wasn’t afraid to wrap my 18” biceps around his throat. The only reason I didn’t put one of over a dozen chokeholds on him was because I was at my cousin’s house.
If you’re gonna fight you need to size up your opponent. You need to know his weaknesses before that first punch is ever thrown.
You have to find a way to get in their head instantly so that the fight ends before it ever begins.
That fight ended three times before it ever began. He smacked me but I made him my bitch without ever throwing a punch. He couldn’t make an offensive move because he finally realized that, in that moment, I was what he imagined himself to be.
That’s psychology. I was in his head without ever saying a word.
I had sized up his body mechanics, figured out his limitations, and could’ve had four different chokes on him from several different angles within the time it would’ve taken him to throw three punches.
I was playing chess and seeing three to five moves ahead. He wasn’t even on the board and I already had him in check.
Know your mark. Know their limitations. Know your strengths.
That’s the difference between being a fighter and being a little bitch.
He’s got a friend who thinks he can scare people. More times than not he’s just weird to the point of making people uncomfortable.
It’s hard to fuck with my head. I worked in a psych ward for three years. My job was literally taking care of literal psychotics and sociopaths. None of them were like Hannibal Lecter although a few thought they were on his level. They weren’t.
After explaining to this guy, that I’ve known for over 20 years, that his little games can’t work on me because I’ve seen and experienced much worse than him, he took that as a challenge. He failed every time. It got to the point where ignoring him made it worse and feeding into his delusion only made him try harder.
At the end of the night, about 0030, he's picked up a wooden folding chair and he’s got it cocked back like he’s going to hit someone. I look up and see that the back of the seat is what he’s attempting to use to hit someone with; or at the very least just threatening. So, having grown up on pro wrestling, I tell him to turn the chair around so the flat part makes impact and won’t pop open on him. He yelled at me to shut up and then smacked me in the face when I wasn’t looking.
Without hesitation, I stood up, took off my glasses, my jacket, and emptied my pockets. He’s already backed up ten feet. We were outside. I looked him dead in the eye and asked him if this is what he wanted. He said yes so I took out my denture and dropped it on the chair. At that point six people rushed between us to keep us apart.
He knew he fucked up the moment he smacked me.
He knew I wasn’t fucking around when i stood up.
He knew he was about to die when I took my teeth out. He actually froze and his eyes widened when he saw that. He’d seen it several times that night as I did it to fuck with people.
He tried to make things right by apologizing but his words and his vocal tone didn’t match up. So as he came close to “give me a hug” I grabbed his beard and pulled him face to face. Forehead to forehead.
“You’ve got one shot. Make it count.”
He froze. At that point people again are pulling us apart.
I know he’s a fighter. Normally he’s beating the shit out of drunk assholes. Only difference is I had two beers all night long and I wasn’t afraid to wrap my 18” biceps around his throat. The only reason I didn’t put one of over a dozen chokeholds on him was because I was at my cousin’s house.
If you’re gonna fight you need to size up your opponent. You need to know his weaknesses before that first punch is ever thrown.
You have to find a way to get in their head instantly so that the fight ends before it ever begins.
That fight ended three times before it ever began. He smacked me but I made him my bitch without ever throwing a punch. He couldn’t make an offensive move because he finally realized that, in that moment, I was what he imagined himself to be.
That’s psychology. I was in his head without ever saying a word.
I had sized up his body mechanics, figured out his limitations, and could’ve had four different chokes on him from several different angles within the time it would’ve taken him to throw three punches.
I was playing chess and seeing three to five moves ahead. He wasn’t even on the board and I already had him in check.
Know your mark. Know their limitations. Know your strengths.
That’s the difference between being a fighter and being a little bitch.