You Wanna Fight About It?

One of my FaceBook friends posted this sign several weeks back and said, “Have y’all ever noticed people think we have an attitude? So, okay, maybe a little one…if you think you have a Texas attitude, this is a great sign to post on your FB page!”

To which I replied with this comment: “That cracks me up… remember when we were kids and that was not an uncommon think to ask? Yeah, so, ya wanna fight about it? Too funny!”

I do remember that saying, and I specifically recall this little incident that happened when I was in the 5th grade…

There was this little girl down the street—Her name was Corrine, but everyone called her Corky—and she was a cutie. Well yours truly, had a crush on little Corky, but so did half the boys in school. One Saturday, I happened to be standing at our front door, when one of those boys—Mike Charles—came walking past, heading toward Corky’s house. I knew that’s where he was going, because I’d heard tell he was making a play for “my” girl. Now just to be straight with y’all, she was, in no way, shape, or form, “my” girl. I just had visions of that soon being the case.

So…. Safely behind of, and somewhat obscured by, the screen door, I said—loud enough for Mike to hear me—“Hey jerk!”

Mike stopped and glared toward the shadow behind the screen. “What did you call me?”

My knees began to tremble, because at the tender age of 10, I’d yet to participate in a real fight, and Mike Charles was one of those boys, who though somewhat shorter than I was then, was what was referred to as “built”. He had muscles where most kids his age—myself included—had stick arms and legs.

I’m sure my voice was shaking, as bad, or worse, than my legs, as I answered, “A jerk! Where you going… jerk!”

He took a step toward the door and said, “You wanna fight about it?”

I knew I’d gone too far, and to back down now was not an option. I shoved the door open and shaky knees and all, strode toward him.

I don’t know why, but we went to the end of the street—right next to Corky’s house, and that’s where we “got it on.” I swear, we must’ve punched and wrestled—rolled down into the empty irrigation ditch a time or two—for thirty minutes. Nobody won, and we finally quit due to pure exhaustion. I actually felt good that it was determined a draw.

I don’t know if either of us ever claimed little Corky as our girl. Mike and I even became pals of a sort after the battle—you know, that mutual respect guys have for each other after they’ve done battle in the neighborhood ditch over their shared love interest.

And… yeah, I’ve still got a Texas attitude! Ya wanna fight about it?

2 Comments »

  1. Sherry Mashburn said

    Bring it on, Bubba!

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