Sunday, June 12, 2011

Watch Out For That First Step…

Yesterday was not a good day. My toaster exploded in my face, I lost my favorite pair of sunglasses, I couldn’t get on to the internet, and some jackass tried to murder me.

After my toaster malfunctioned and nearly blinded me with shrapnel, I decided to go for a walk. There’s a park within fifteen minutes of my house with trails around a lake that I really like, so I went there. Being a paranoid individual (its not paranoia if people are actually out to get you), I had my knife, phone, and can of police-strength pepper spray clipped on my jacket. I would have had my stungun too, but I’m afraid it’ll put me in a coma or stop my heart if I touch it. Dang, another missed opportunity to zap someone.

I was about halfway through the trail when I came to a bench overlooking the lake. I tossed my jacket on the bench (stupid stupid stupid), walked closer to the lake, and peered down the bank. I was about 20 feet or so above the lake, and there really isn’t a safe way down to the water from the top of the cliff. It’s a nice view.

Done staring at the lake, I went to retrieve my jacket. I had only taken a few steps when I got a horrible feeling. A second later I heard something crashing through the brush. I managed to get a little closer to my jacket and weapons before he burst onto the path. He was taller than me (everyone is taller than me), with dark hair and dark eyes. He didn’t look that old, early 20s at the most. I dropped into a fighting stance, and he grinned. He then did the worst possible thing he could do; he tackled me to the ground.

That poor bastard.

I have not taken a self-defense or hand-to-hand combat class in my life. But, when you spend the majority of your life surrounded by a bunch of college wrestlers-turned-bricklayers whose idea of fun is beating the living hell out of each other, you pick up a few things. Plus, I’ve always been a big fan of mixed martial arts. Especially Muay Thai, which didn’t really help me in this fight. But I digress.

I landed on my back with him on top of me. I’ll admit it was uncomfortable, but he was in my guard, so it was worth it. Since he was in my guard, he couldn’t do much except move his hands. I caught and trapped one of his hands, and he still tried to strangle me. I quickly dissuaded him of that notion by punching him in the head. Repeatedly. He seemed stunned, so I took my thumb and pressed it into the pressure point behind his ear (I believe it’s called the Dokko pressure point. I don’t recommend it unless you don’t care about what happens to your opponent). He went limp for five seconds, and then struggled to get off me. I happily let him up. He staggered to his feet and stared at me furiously. His forehead and nose were bleeding. He wiped at his nose and hunched over and acted like he wanted to attack me again. Noticing how low his head now was, I rocked backwards and brought both feet up and kicked him in the jaw. I heard a sharp crack followed by a startled yelp.

I scrambled to my feet, ready for round two, and he was…gone? I stared for a moment, and then looked over the edge of the cliff. There he was, clinging to the side of the impossible to climb bank. I stared at him in silence. He regained some of his senses and looked up at me. I grinned viciously and gave a little wave. He glared weakly at me. I snorted and kicked some sand down on him, then walked over to my jacket and called the police.

I don’t really have much faith in the police, as they have let me down so many times in the past, but I wasn’t going to leave him there. There was a chance that he would manage to swim to the other side of the small lake and recover. If he did, there was nothing to stop him from attempting to murder someone else. If it was a big lake, I’d leave his ass there to drown. I’m not a very forgiving person.

So the police showed up, and I told them that he attacked me. Apparently the guy had a warrant out for his arrest, so I didn’t really have to do anything. They got a boat and hauled him back to shore, and I stretched and continued on my walk.

This little fight would have been fun if he hadn’t been trying to kill me (or worse). I’m a little sore, and my back is bruised from when I hit the ground, but I’m otherwise unharmed. I’ll be more careful from now on. I would really like to get one of those butterfly knives. Or a switchblade. Perhaps I’ll carry one of my throwing knives and keep it strapped to my arm. I need to find out where I can take a Muay Thai class…

I’m not really shaken by the incident, just mad. I’m more worried about my missing sunglasses. Where the hell did they go?


  1. Glad to hear you're okay.

    Those toasters man...

  2. Thanks.

    Freakin' toaster. I could have lost an eye! As far as I’m concerned, the whole thing was the toaster’s fault.