I was only around 5 at the time and I remember the situation but not really knowing what was going on at the time.
My mother and I had just picked up my grandfather from the hospital after having heart surgery. At the time he was probably around 70 I’d say. Anyway, we stopped at a gas station and he saw some biker hitting his girlfriend. The guy was half his age and twice his size and my grandfather didn’t give a fuck.
My mother tried to plead with him to get back in the car, scared of what this guy might do to him. Nope, not a fucking chance. My grandfather was on the Nevada at Pearl Harbor and no way some little bitch was going to take him down. Yes, if you hit a woman, you’re a bitch.
Grandpa told the girl to get in the car and that we were going to take her somewhere safe. The biker might have said something stupid but he was obviously smart enough to not get in the way let alone take a swing.
Even though I vaguely remember this, I remember it being the only time I ever really saw the Old Man pissed off. Next thing I know I have some weird, scary looking chick in the back seat with me.
We took her to my grandparents house and I think she stayed on the couch for a night or two before they bought her a bus ticket home. This is just how they lived. You didn’t turn your back on your neighbor, you stepped up and did something even if there was a good chance you might get punched in the face. Even if you did get hit, you just hit the motherfucker back even harder.
