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I got into a fight about this time last year. The guy was drunk and high, and only wanted to fight me because I was there. I wasn't in the mood to fight, however (I had just been no-showed by a girl from another town, so it was a long drive back to my town), so after he had already hit me twice and slammed my car-door on me, I cheap-shotted him to try to end the fight quick; I slammed my knee into his sac, pretty much, followed by a killer punch to the nose and a mean headlock.
I found out later that week that he went to the hospital and had to have surgery to remove one of his balls. Despite him cussing my mom out just days before I heard this news (I was ready to kill him during this period), I prayed for him and wished he could get some peace.
Fast-forward to November; the guy still doesn't like me, as expected. I'm walkin' down my school hallway when the guy shoulder-rams me out of nowhere. I turn around and got ready to push him, but I stop myself 'cuz now I'm 18 and probably shouldn't do that. He turns around and starts cussing me out...simple stuff, like "you bitch", "come on, faggot", all those simple slurs. He'd also been tryin' to give me trouble all through-out the school-year, so I decided I'd share something honest with him.
I got in his face, and said "you're a one-balled freak".
He swung at me (rightfully so, too, heh), and we fought for a lil' bit more before it got broken up. Then when I was in the office, the guy broke in and tried to fight some more, but our vice principle tackled him down. Lastly, afew minutes later, he tried to break into the same room again...but this time the door was locked, so he cracked his head on the door and fell, hard. Then an officer came and took him away, all of which I got to see. It made me smile.
I've been in abunch of fights, but those are the only two that were in/near adulthood.
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"We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, therefore, is not an act, but a habit."
--Aristotle
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