Tuesday, August 2, 2011

One For the Old Guys

I have this neighborhood kid. Smart ass. One of those kids you secretly like because they are incredibly stupid but think they are really smart. You know the kind of kid I am talking about. Twenty one and knows everything? Yea, one of those. Just like me at 21.

Anyway, this kid is always running his mouth. Thinks he is a tough guy. Tattoos and stuff. Always calling me old man, shit like that.

I am 50 years old. At 6'4" and 270 lbs., I am no small critter. That and I work out 3 days a week. I can easily bench press this moronic kid. But I let him call me old man, give me shit, and then last week I had to finally draw the line. That happened when the moron stated in front of a bunch of people that he oughta whip my ass.

One of the problems with being a random moron, and displaying that hand many times in advance, is that it gives people like me- ample time to prepare for that easily predictable moment when their mouths' write a check that their asses' can't cash. Like this.

So I look at this kid and I said "Times' wasting, ready when you are." So he whips off his shirt ( a wife beater of course) exposing this little white fleshed gut and a few prison tattoos, and I started laughing. Genuinely. He says, "What are you laughing about?" "Nothing" I said. "How about we just arm wrestle because I don't want to go to jail for beating up an idiot." He thinks about it for a moment, sees that my arms are about the size of his legs, and declines.

Unfortunately for him, all of the people that witnessed this event start calling him a pussy and teasing him. I almost came to his defense. But ya know he earned that moment and I chose not to deprive him of it. I haven't seen him around all week. Odd.

He doesn't know this. I would never have fought with him. Not because I couldn't whip his ass but because I can't afford the 5 grand deductible in case I tear a rotator cuff. I didn't get to this lofty perch by being a dumb ass.

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