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This happened probably 12-13 years ago. I was working in a "ghetto" part of town. While most of my customers were "poor" I did a good business and they were some really cool folks. Unfortunately, the area also had a sizeable bad element.
One morning I'm leaving my favorite chicken biscuit establishment with some hot fast food goodness when some asshole pulls out in front of me making a left turn. I locked down the brakes and laid on the horn. Missed him by a foot or two and flipped him off.
Being the "all must respect me" type of thug, he took exception to that, and did an illegal u-turn in order to follow me.
I stopped at the corner store next to my work, calmly walked inside to buy my morning orange juice, said hello to the cashier and the morning crowd hanging around, and said to the cashier "you may want to call the cops" before walking outside.
Mr. Big Shot Gangsta was parked behind my car and he was standing there with righteous indignation over my lack of respect.
"Yo man! What's yo problem!"
I smiled, lifted my shirt, placed my hand on the grip of my trusty M1911 .45, and said "I have too many bullets in my gun." (a line from The Last Boy Scout, hilarious!)
His bravado evaporated in the time it takes to count to the highest even prime number and suddenly he had somewhere else to be. The morning crowd watching from the door thought it was the funniest thing they'd ever seen.
A few months later, the same douchebag reserved a room at the local prison when he backed his rather distinctively painted Camaro into a parking space, walked into the store, grabbed two 12-packs of beer, and calmly walked back out without paying. I happened to be there at the time so I walked out with the cashier on duty to make sure the odds were evened up. He took his time driving off so she was able to carefully write down his tag number and then verify it. Yes really!
One morning I'm leaving my favorite chicken biscuit establishment with some hot fast food goodness when some asshole pulls out in front of me making a left turn. I locked down the brakes and laid on the horn. Missed him by a foot or two and flipped him off.
Being the "all must respect me" type of thug, he took exception to that, and did an illegal u-turn in order to follow me.
I stopped at the corner store next to my work, calmly walked inside to buy my morning orange juice, said hello to the cashier and the morning crowd hanging around, and said to the cashier "you may want to call the cops" before walking outside.
Mr. Big Shot Gangsta was parked behind my car and he was standing there with righteous indignation over my lack of respect.
"Yo man! What's yo problem!"
I smiled, lifted my shirt, placed my hand on the grip of my trusty M1911 .45, and said "I have too many bullets in my gun." (a line from The Last Boy Scout, hilarious!)
His bravado evaporated in the time it takes to count to the highest even prime number and suddenly he had somewhere else to be. The morning crowd watching from the door thought it was the funniest thing they'd ever seen.
A few months later, the same douchebag reserved a room at the local prison when he backed his rather distinctively painted Camaro into a parking space, walked into the store, grabbed two 12-packs of beer, and calmly walked back out without paying. I happened to be there at the time so I walked out with the cashier on duty to make sure the odds were evened up. He took his time driving off so she was able to carefully write down his tag number and then verify it. Yes really!
I wish I'd been there to see that! Some people really need to be taken down a notch or twenty.
Seems the idiot driving it...rather than turn left (like he was supposed to) decided to turn *right* instead, ignoring the stop sign...and the fact that my car was merging onto that street.
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