This is one of those "I don't know what came over
me" stories.
I used to stay on an ostrich farm, and at one stage there
was a motorcycle menace who used to terrorise the neighbourhood - riding
past horses and spooking them, knocking people off of bicycles, splattering
pedestrians with mud, terrorising dogs (even shooting at some). He
used to delight in revving his bike when he went past the ostriches, and,
being the stupid beasts they are, they would run in panic and wind up
slicing themselves on fences, etc.
Problem was that this chap had no plates on his bike, and
wore a tinted visor : no-one knew who he was! If you went out into the
road to stop him, he'd ride his bike AT you.
To cut a long story short, one Sunday morning, he was at
it again. We had lost an ostrich the night before, and I was in no
mood for this shit, so (I'm sorry, I'm not normally like this!) I took out
the lunge whip and went to stand on the verge. As he came
towards me, he saw the whip and realised that I could avoid being hit by his
bike, but still hit him with the whip, so he slowed down and stopped.
I told him, in some very colourful language, that I would
remove his masculinity with a spoon and make him eat it raw if I caught him
playing games like that again. He proceeded to drive his motorbike
into me. Well, my husband, teddy bear that he is, had by that time
caught up with me (I'm real fast when I'm pissed) and he pulled the
motorcyclist off of his bike. Mark is big 6 foot tall and 130 kgs -
front row forward for the rugby club - but the motorcyclist was a giant :
about 6'4" and bigger than Mark. He grabbed Mark and slammed his
face into the road, and held Mark's right arm behind his back. Mistake
- Mark's left-handed, so he just swung and POW! connected a beaut of a
shot to this guy's nose - which he broke. I kicked the guy in the ribs
and hit him with the lunge whip.
Like all bullies, the fact that we stood up to him was
enough. He ran to mommy, who called the local police, who ignored the
plea, as they had received complaints about the motorcyclist, but couldn't
trace him until his silly mother phoned them! Bottom line was : this
guy didn't bother ANYONE again.
I have NEVER lost it like that, and I hope I never do
again, but at least we managed to stop the guy.
Tracey
(somewhat red-faced about her behaviour and her language,
but nonetheless pleased at the descent of peace into the
neighbourhood)