The "You Messed With the Wrong Damsel" fracas:
This episode took place in the parking lot of a local Tom Thumb convenience store, around 3:00 PM sometime in the summer of 2010. Exact time and date was recorded on the store's security video system which I would reference for accurate information but the authorities would not release a copy for me to keep with the other family home movies. A silly rule and a disappointment to me and my clan.
I received a call from my younger daughter "Crash" where she informed me that she had just been a "victim" of an attempted Car jacking. She sounded calm, informed me that the Sheriff's Office had been notified and were on their way and asked if I could come to the scene of the crime for, I guess, moral support. I was only 3 miles away so jumped in my truck and sped off.
Upon arriving I note my daughter being interviewed (hit on might be more accurate) by one of Pensacola's Finest, her car door standing open, a broken pool cue lying near the car and a blood trail leading around to the back of the building. Oh, and trace amounts spattered on daughter's hood, even a tiny bit on the front seats. I, of course, asked if she was alright, concerned that some of the blood was hers. I should have known better, being that I've known her since she was in diapers.
The story: She pulled in to the store, locked her car and proceeded inside. Upon exiting the store and arriving back at her car two yoots (My Cousin Vinny reference) approached her. One went directly towards her and the other went around to the passenger side and attempted to open the locked door. Her purse was on the passenger seat. Guess it was like a shark trying to strike at someone through an aquarium glass panel. Too stoopid to figure it out. He'll be referenced as Stoop #2.
The one closest to Crash was holding one of those miniature Louisville Slugger bats. You know, the ones that are about 2' long and are for display purposes only? Display is where it should have stayed for the future health and welllbeing of stoopid #1.
Well, Stoop #1 grabs Crash's arm, spins her around and demands money, her car and other "demands" that I can't mention on a family friendly forum..
Now right here I won't attempt to fully describe Crash's demeanor, personality and fear threshold but let's just say she's always been cool as a cucumber and has a lightning fast wit and reflexes. A real force to be reckoned with in a panic situation. I sired her. The look on her face in the video scared ME.
She responds by saying she's late for work, people are waiting on her and "Dude, I haven't got any money. I'm a single mom, are you kiddin?".
Stoop # 1 decides to show his seriousness by whacking Crash behind the knees pretty sporty with that shorty Slugger (probably a metaphor for his manhood in there somewhere, but I digress), enough that she almost buckles to the ground.
The change in her eyes and demeanor would have frightened the pants off anyone with an IQ above a lawn chair but we are dealing with a true thug dude. Someone to fear, a battle hardened bad boy that strikes fear into the hearts of Navy Seals and makes any woman between the age of 10 and 70 swoon with the raw masculinity and virility eliciting from every pore of his magnificent body. In other words, his hat's on backwards, his pants down around his knees and he couldn't get a woman with a fistful of hundred dollar bills in Reno during a slow day.
So, Crash goes into her Postal stance. Postal to her is calm, frightened, vulnerable, meek, mousey, timid and totally non-threatening. Please see any episode of National Geographic Explorer pertaining to the tactics of the female Black Widow Spider drawing the male victim into her lair for clarification.
She becomes pliable and tells Stud Muffin that she'll comply, "please don't hurt me" and reaches into her car, across the front seat to "grab her purse/money/keys". Instead she locks onto the back, thicker half of her prized pool cue given to her by her mom (remember the church lady?) the previous birthday that was tucked between the front seats.
Now, I need to stop here and frame forward to the surveillance video, the examination by the Sheriff's Office and subsequent scoring of style, technique and difficulty of the maneuver.
She got high marks on stance, foot placement, swing, cue velocity, follow through***, difficulty of approach, style, imagination and permanence of injury. They tried to subtract points for the lack of return blow but that was overruled when the video revealed that what was left of the dufus was able to make good his escape due to distraction while Crash went after Stoop #2.
What impressed me was the spray of blood and dental work the strike produced. The scene was something that would make Freddie Kruger double over and hurl lunch.
Back to the immediate scene: As the Terminator (Crash) relates the details I notice one of the latest LEOs that arrived was toeing around something he found near the car. Upon close examination it's determined to be a tooth, obviously one that formerly belonged in the mouth of Stud Muffin (Stoop #1). Upon the revelation that "Yep, it's one of his teeth" my babygirl asks if there is any gold in it. "Why?" I ask confused, "you want it for a scrap book?". "Nope, Dad. Figured it's got to be worth enough money to get my car detailed and a new pool cue to replace the one mom gave me for my birthday".
Now THAT is a true Southern Belle and a daughter to be proud of.
Epilogue: Stud Muffins (Stoops # 1 & 2) were caught and convicted in court. We attended the trial. After I saw the look on their faces when they were brought into court, shackled, and then saw my cute daughter in the gallery to watch the proceedings. I really do believe they were looking forward to some quality cell time with Bubba as a boyfriend. It can get a lot worse out on the mean street of life when you have good ole country girls walking around unregulated, unsupervised and unrestrained.
Upon reflection I do feel that my babygirl contributed to the betterment of society. I mean, what kind of thugs does this country produce when a simple G-Money type dude gets owned by a sweet, innocent, gorgeous and feminine Southern gal so bad that he'll never walk the streets again representin' all that is held cherished by the "gangsta" society?
The conclusion to my thesis? I should have sown more oats and produced a few dozen more Southern Belles.
If I can just convince the wife that it's a sacrifice I'm willing to give to society...........
***Very important: You don't want to attempt to dissipate energy too fast on a swing like that. You could strain a muscle and spend the night nursing a sore arm.