So, this is my Blog, my thoughts / feelings / ideas. You may comment if you like. If you attack me, I come back at you with reckless / racist / suicidal abandon. If you compliment me, I thank you. If you don't ever visit again I don't care. Other than that, just enjoy what I write, or not.

LIU - Look It Up!


Monday, May 23, 2011

Bring a knife to a gun fight?

Not sure if I posted this here before - don't think I did.

So one year the princess and I are at the Chicken Rally, held by the Chicken Outfit from Durban, and for bikers only -  (those days rallies were by invitation only).

There were always some not so nice people in attendance, and others who were always a pleasure to see again. One fo the "not so nice guys" was a giant of a man who went by some name that I cannot remember. Suffice to say the name suited his demeanour. He was the guy who didn't take part oin the "fun" stuff, but attended the rally with the sole intention of getting completely blotto for 3 days, and try and get a fight!
Anyway, the Princess and I are sitting at a "picnic" table inside the main hall, having a drink, talking shit with the other fellas and ladies around there. At some point this clown strolls over to our table, and either chirped the Princess, or tried to entice me into an argument.

Not being one to back down, (and probably also due to the fact I was big on Captain Morgan and Coke in them days) I told him to back off, go away, piss off, one or all of the above. Now he wasn't going to take this from a little squirt like me, especially not in front of all the people he had spent years trying to "impress". He pulled his knife from it's sheath on his belt, and stuck it into the table in front of me!!! (Basically a challenge to a "duel", as per the slap in the face with a gauntlet in them old days!)

Anyway, the hall went quiet, the Princess gasped, and held her breath (she know what this Rummed up partner of hers was capable of) and I drew the 9mm, slapped it on the table and said in as loud a voice as I could muster - "Fuck off moron - wrong fight!"..
He looked at me, then at the gun, then around at the crowd, pulled his knife from the table, and left. Yup, got his stuff, climbed on his bike and left!

I heard a few months later that someone had gone over to his place one day, knocked on his door, and when he opened it had filled his chest with .357 magnum slugs. So he wouldn't be troubling us again.


No comments: