Sometimes I forget that I'm a 48 year-old woman.
Not necessarily a BAD thing -- for example, if I were on a date with a hot 32 year-old, and he made me forget that I was 48 -- GOOD THING.
Brawling with thugs? Not a GOOD THING.
We had finished striking all the Rogue sets and lights, and were heading for Rogue Storage. I saw something fly through the air and hit the brickwall of a store. My sister thought it was a skateboard, kicked by one of the two teenagers walking on the sidewalk.
It. was. not. a. skateboard.
It. was. a. puppy.
I made a face, and that is probably where the incident would have ended.
One of the teens squared up on the cowering puppy, kicked and started swinging.
And APj metamorphosed into The Hulk.
Brakes and tires squealing, I threw my seatbelt off, and leaped from the car,
"Motherf#c!ker! Touch that dog one more time, and I'll kick the sh!t out of you!"
He stopped swinging at the dog -
And started walking towards me
saying, "You dint see nothin' b!t#h! You dint see nothin' "
By this time, he and his friend are right in front of me -- and I'm realizing that he is at least 4 inches taller than me --
--but hey -- I'm a whole hell-of-a-lot crazier than him -- so I walk right up to him, jab him in the chest and retort, "Yeah? I saw the whole thing, a##ho!e! You don't --"
At this point, he and his ugly thug friend started backing away, with a "whatcha gonna do, b!tch? whatcha gonna do?"
"What am I gonna do?" I pulled out my cellphone, "This, A##ho!e!" and dialed 9-1-1.
Yes, yes, I know - I should have taken a picture with my cellphone. Damn adrenaline. And yes, yes, I realize (in hindsight), that this was not the smartest move I've ever made.
But I'd do it again. Yup. I'm crazy that way.