Listen to this:
My sifu (Chinese for Sensei) was taking a squad of us fighters to a tournament in his convertible. Traffic was quite dense and for the longest time there was some loud jackass in a truck behind us, honking his horn and screaming obscenities because we wouldn’t muscle our way through traffic.
Eventually he gets out of his truck and walks up to our car and starts banging on Sifu’s hood, threatening him. We all just kind of stared at him in mute shock. Imagine our Sifu: he has spent thirty years of his life studying the most brutal martial arts known to man with some of the best fighters in the world. And he is absolutely ripped. His body was like crossing Bruce Lee and Ahnold.
We just stared at the guy. Finally, all five of us fighters just kind of rose in our seats so he could read our T-Shirts. The T-shirts read, “JEET KUNE DO” and in a circle below that it read, “PUNCHING, KICKING, GRAPPLING, JOINT LOCKS, KNIVES, STICKS, ELBOWS, KNEES, BITING,EYE GOUGING, SCRATCHING, HAIR PULLING, GROIN SHOTS”
The guy took the time to read us, then kept on yelling and screaming like a maniac. At that point traffic started to move and the guy had to rush back to his vehicle. We lost him at the next light.
It was crazy. Like the guy had a deathwish or something. Sifu just shook his head the entire trip, murmering in disbelief, “Of all the people in this city he could’ve picked a fight with…”