Tales of An suburban barbarian.
Well, there I was watching this punk threaten my step daughter in our yard, he was waving a folding buck knife, all stringy, gangly six feet of his eighteen year old self.
My daughter, was Seven years old. She had interrupted him trying to cut a passage way in our fence. He apparently took umbrage with this.
I had become aware of this situation when Jack, my retired Sheriff officer German Shepherd had alerted and I had of course opened the door to investigate.
I should say my response was not well reasoned though it did involve some thought.
I glanced at my guncase briefly considering between the Shotgun and the rifle. The glint of sunlight on my long sword hanging on the wall caught my attention.
Actually, two of them.
One, razor sharp and highly polished , the other, polished but intentionally, without an edge. Both, full tang high quality pattern welded spring steel.
I chose the dull one and charged forth to confront the offender. Upon seeing my approach my daughter giggled, commenting, “ I told you.”
The offender stupidly stood his ground. I have no idea what he was thinking. Confronted by a long haired six foot five angry me, barefoot, with a shiny longsword in hands, he chose to challenge me.
“ What do you think you are gonna do?”
I vaulted the four foot chain link fence and tapped him on the fore arm with the flat of my blade. This got his attention. He dropped his knife backing away. “ Your fcking crazy! “ He yelled. I paused to snatch up his knife left handed. Offering it back to him. “ Yes, you know I am. You might want this.” he backed further away.
“I’m gonna call the po po!” he threatened. “Ok” I replied as I advanced.
Neighbors had come outside to see what my dog was so excited about. We now had an audience.
I should mention that we lived at the end of two separate dead end roads. One ran east to west, parallel to a drainage canal. The other road, ran north to South. Dead ending at the canal.
The punk and I were engaged in our dance of discussion along the access right of way which edged the canal. He eventually turned and ran.
I followed sedately picking my way along carefully trying to avoid sandspurs. A neighbor asked if they should call the sheriff's office. “Please, just give me a few”
Laughter ensued, “ You got it, get em!”
I knew exactly where the punk was going. When I was a teen, my mother had rented a duplex apartment, in the same neighborhood. The punk was born and raised in the house directly behind our apartment. Our back yard were separated by a six foot privacy fence.
So I followed him home.
I knocked on the door at the house. No one answered. So I sat down to await the Sheriff's officer.
The Green and white PBSO ( Palm Beach County Sheriff's Office) cruiser pulled up, and I laid my sword down. The officer approached giving me the “ Look”. I moved very slowly, hands at my side, greeting him.
He had already talked with my immediate neighbors as well as my daughter. I informed him that I had no ID on me. “ I didn't think so.” He replied, glancing from me, bare foot, shirtless, wearing cut off jeans, and the sword , with punks buck knife next to it on the ground.
“What's the problem sir?”
I explained, ending with, “ I was trying to return his knife that he dropped.”
The officer laughed, asked me to wait beside the cruiser , then knocked on the door.
A conversation ensued. Resulting in the punk being escorted to the cruiser in hand cuffs. While the petite mom cursed at both the officer and me. The officer was telling the punk, you should know better than to screw with a redneck Conan.
After confiscating the knife the officer examined my sword.
Knowing that I had other weapons to choose from, he asked, “ why did you pick up a dull sword?”
“ Because I was pissed about him threatening my daughter. I figured the dull one would hurt more.”
The officer looked at me a bit, then shaking his head got in the cruiser and left.
I returned home. My kids were disappointed that I had not brought his head.
It was a quiet weekend after that.
No I did not embellish the story.
Yes that is me in the picture.
Florida Man strikes again.