Without paying a dime, I saw a bare-knuckle fight last week.
It was a classic road rage event. Both cars were backing out of their parking spaces at the same time. Their bumpers met. One man, about 40 years old, jumped out of his car and approached the other driver, who sat in his driver’s seat, showing little emotion.
The first man (who we will call Stupid) went nuts, yelling at the other guy (who we will call Sane). Sane, who I guessed was about 70, quietly asked Stupid to calm down. “Let’s exchange our insurance information and be on our way.” Stupid would have none of it. He attempted to open Sane’s door and pull Sane out of his car.
Sane got out slowly of his own accord. The calmer Sane was, the angrier Stupid became. “This is all your fault!” Then Stupid did something really stupid. He hit Sane in the nose and got ready to land another blow.
Sane stepped back, smiled and then dropped Stupid to the ground with a nifty uppercut. Stupid just lay there with no intention to get up.
A police officer arrived and asked me to stay for a statement. Turns out Stupid had no license and was obviously drunk. I complimented Sane on his uppercut. Sane said he boxed professionally in his 20s before becoming a highway patrolman in Illinois.
Sane defeats Stupid every time — in a parking lot, in a boardroom or in the choices we make each day.
Highway 30