Wednesday, December 7, 2011


It was late October, 2010, and I was feeling especially anti social being as I was reeling from the recent news that my wife had been diagnosed with cancer. I was at the motorcycle shop to purchase some parts for my scooter, you know, carry on as normal until we knew more about her cancer. Standing at the parts counter, there were three guys behind me that I was paying no attention to, that is up to when I distinctly over heard them talking about a 'sawed off, short, fat faggot mother fucker', I turned just enough to see them nod, yes they were discussing me. They then turned and began walking out the shop, and I said, "Well, you can suck this faggot mother's dick!" In unison they stopped and returned, this is when I noticed they were wearing colors. Knowing if I ran, they would catch me, and beat me up, so I simply said I was only joking, it was no big deal, and I was sorry. "What did you SAY?" the closest one to me asked. Again I told them it was no big deal. "Tell me what you said!" So, I looked him in the eye, and repeated most of my remark, most of it in that a was unable to say dic....when like a trip hammer his fist connected with my jaw, knocking my glasses across the sales floor. I immediatetly knew I was injured, I did not fall or lose consisousness, but had blue birds and stars circling my head. Reaching up to feel with my hand which I was accutely aware was a broken jaw, the three turned and calmly walked to the door. "HEY," I yelled to them, they turned and waited. "Thanks," "For what?" the one I offended asked. "For only hitting me once, fucker!" With a shared look of suprise at my remark and a shared shrug, they left the building. Needless to say, I had created quite a stir in the place and the employees hurriedly went about closing the store, knowing, for sure I was going to get the police involved. I went to the owner and with broken face apologized for making trouble in his buisness, and asked his permission to take myself to hospital.

At the hospital the cops arrived in the form of a very concerned detective, telling me the staff called them about my assualt. Knowing that to say anything to the law would most likely not be in my best interest, I declined to give him any information.

The day I returned home, jaw wired shut and under the influence of powerful pain meds, I returned to the motorcycle shop. Upon my arrival, I got many wary stares, and questioned as to why I had returned. Again I appologized for my stupid remark, and told them I was not going to make any trouble, as I had all I wanted and did not want to have the 81 men after me for all time. This made sense to them, but they were courious about the details of the assualt, as all they knew was I had been injured by one of their customers. So with clenched jaw, from being wired shut I said, "You know how bikers ride extremely loud motorcycles? Well it must have caused a hearing loss to the guy that hit me. I told him to suck my dick, but I he thought I said 'Break my jaw!'" They fell about the place laughing and slapping me on the back. "You're crazy!!" The owners son said, "You had balls enough to come around after that, and then you joke about it! You're alright, I hope you learned something." "Yeah, like I wished my jaw was wired then, so I couldn't have opened my mouth." For quite some time I was known as 'glass jaw ken.' A name I certainly earned.

My maxiofacial surgeon told me that putting my lower mandible back in place was 'challenging.' You see, with one punch, the guy had broken my jaw in about seven places. And except for the left side of my face being numb, like novocaine, and some sensitiveity inside my mouth, nearly two years later, I made out all right.

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