I’m not looking for trouble here. I’m not some tough guy trying to prove anything. All I’m saying is that given you and given me and given certain criteria and circumstances, I could probably take you in a fight.
Now, that might not be true if you’re taller than me, in good shape, or have any formalized martial arts training or simply good balance. But let’s face facts. If you’re relatively small and either very old or very young, there’s a very good change I could best you. And if you happen to be disabled or bedridden with an illness, I’m even more sure of myself. You wouldn’t stand a chance, probably.
And the interesting thing is, I’m not a very good fighter. The one person I punched, the blow glanced off the top of his skull and I sprained my wrist. I also don’t like confrontation and would rather talk things out. And yet I am fairly confident in my ability to drop you like an old bag of fruit, assuming I’m given a head start or you’re distracted by pushing a stroller or rescuing people from a fire.
It’s laughable to think that you could defend yourself from my physical onslaught. This is a fact that shoots up to 99% certainty if you’re asleep or in labor. I would destroy you.
They say the first punch is usually the last – it can decide the fight. And I’m pretty sure I’d be the one getting that first punch in, if you’re busy on the phone with your mom or ladling out stew at the soup kitchen. Sorry if I’m quick like a jackrabbit and sting like a bee, but the only rule in fighting is to win.
I’m happy to discuss this in more detail with you… using my fists. But first – hey, what’s that behind you?