State the last time you opened a can of 'whoop ass' on someone

I thought I would have to tonight--full moon and all that.

Crazy woman walked on my heels as we were walking into a store. Instead of saying, "sorry...excuse me..." or anything even remotely resembling compassion for crushing the backs of my heels she says,

"walk up...speed it up...hurry" I'm not bullshittin'.

I am NOT one that walks slow by any means--so I was taken aback by this. I think she was on crack or some other amping kind of drug, by the way she was acting. Anyway, I totally went off on her. Shouldn't have, but I did. Caught me off guard. Thinking back on it, I think she thought I was about to open some whoop ass on her, because she backed down from her attitude and was apologetic.

So, when was the last time you did, or thought you might open some whoop ass?

:silly:

:hi:

:silly:

:(

If ya hang out mostly in the Gungeon, you go to GD for a vacation and stress releif.

But I can be very terse and firm with my voice...and I think the last time I was that upset was almost a month ago.

One of the sales guys disappeared, for half and hour. The first rule, is always tell the receptionists where you are going. If you leave and I don't know, you make me look really stupid towards the customer when I end up saying "I don't know where X is."

So when he finally did show back up on property, I had a good one sided conversation with him, lettimg him knw that he was to always tell me when he stepped off property. That, and from now on, when I can't find him, I get another sales guy to help said customer, thus, splitting his commission in half.

it has dents and the lable fell off,when it opens the smell will probably wipe me out too. people are getting wierder out there,like thier car horns are death rays.
You should have walked slower and drooled on her,that gets them.

But partly for fun and partly to show my 19-year-old niece who was living with me at the time that there were jobs out there (she had been lazy in looking for a job), a few years back I got a part time job at an arcade, which had a lot of games that you play for tickets that you then turn in for crappy prizes.

One night this 3-year-old boy and his 7-year-old sister come up to get prizes for the boy's tickets - there really isn't much he can get, and he isn't really interested in the prizes because he's toddling off (where's mom or dad - eh, who knows?), and the girl picks out three small prizes for him and runs off to make sure he's okay. Ten minutes later the mom comes up to the counter and starts yelling at me that her son didn't pick out his prizes and accused me of doing it for him. I told her matter-of-factly what had happened (the daughter was standing right behind her looking embarrassed to be seen with her), but the woman kept going crazy and kept yelling at me as if I had forced the prizes on the kid, and she throws them in my face and starts cursing. I tell her that she now needs to leave the arcade, and she curses even louder, and I lose it and start yelling back at her, insulting her parenting skills, telling her that maybe if she had been keeping track of her son instead of foisting him off on her daughter while she played a game over and over, we might not have this problem. Of course, that makes her madder.

I then tell her that if she's not out of the door by the time I come out from behind the counter, I'm picking her up and throwing her out. Well, she starts edging towards the door, yelling and cursing and saying she'll sue me if I touch her. For added emphasis, I grab a broken cue stick that's behind the counter as I come around and start approaching her. She stays by the door cursing and yelling until I get within swinging distance then she bolts.

The whole arcade thought this was funny, and I did too after things calmed down. I guess that's the closest I've gotten to opening up a can of Whoop-Ass. Normally, either my size intimidates people, or I can just embarrass people to their faces - in front of their gangs or posses - to the point where they'll behave nicely around me. This lady caught me off guard.

TlalocW

Outside a bar (I later found out he was a Assistant County Prosecutor).

A witness came inside the bar and told me, and said they went to another girlie bar down the street.

I won't go into details, but he remembered me for a long, long time.

Semi-short version of what happened...

Seventeen years ago, we were robbed during our wedding reception (booked at a large national chain, included in the reception was a night in the "bridal suite"). As our guests were still gathering their coats and leaving, we were in the suite, changing out of our wedding clothes so my folks could drive back to our new apartment, put the new missus's gown back, and return my rented tux. I'm already changed, and opening a few cards when I hear the missus squeak that her wallet (and all her ID's, credit cards, and some irreplaceable photos), her checkbook, and all the money her sister paid her back to cover a few wedding expenses were missing.

Hotel security was called, and then escalated to calling the police. I’m giving the police a statement in sweatpants, tee-shirt, and bare feet, still picking birdseed out of my hair. Dad drives us back to the apartment, where we dump all the contents from one of the dresser drawers to try and gather as many credit card numbers and emergency phone numbers to call as possible. I haven’t even moved in yet, she’s been there a scant month, and everything was just stuffed into drawers to make the place presentable for company.

The next day (Sunday), we’re running on about two hours sleep, after trying to find our who to call… we check out as fast as possible (another long story there, but I’ll skip it for now), and take a courtesy bus to the airport right down the road (if you’re from Long Island, you’ve already guessed the airport, and hopefully the hotel, too). Check the bags, grab a donut for breakfast, and fly to Orlando for our honeymoon. There’s a cute bit here about how our travel agent screwed up our reservations at WDW (we almost didn’t get our pre-paid room), but that also is another story for another time. I only mention it to put the events of Monday morning into context.

Monday morning, in the marketplace outside of the “Pirates of the Caribbean” ride, we’re on one of the few available payphones, trying to call the bank long distance to stop any checks that might yet be made out using the stolen checkbook.

An older potato-looking couple (cat sunglasses for her, plaid Bermuda shorts and white loafers for him), were standing a little distance away, maybe twenty feet, apparently wanting to get to a phone themselves…. and dang it, here were these two young-uns just a-gabbing away on that phone all darn morning….

Mister (loud and drawling): “Ah wunder whut they’re talking ‘bout…?”
Missus (louder and flinty): “Prob’ly talkin’ their lost luuuuhves…!”

Here it comes. They had it coming. Excuse yourself from the new missus, turn, and fire.

“WE WERE JUST MARRIED YESTERDAY, AND MY WIFE HERE WAS ROBBED OF EVERYTHING SHE HAS RIGHT AFTER. WE CARE CALLING THE BANK TO CANCEL ALL HER CREDIT CARDS. DO YOU HAVE A PARTICULAR PROBLEM WITH THAT?”

Alright, maybe not exactly whoop-ass, but I did get my 'zilla on.