Yesterday.
In the parking lot.
At work.
With a co-worker.
My boss sent me home for the day.
<sigh>
Now I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Did you at least win?
I’m not a bully and never go looking for a fight but I love it, and want to get into boxing as soon as my fitness level increases.
That being said my last fight was bout 3 months ago which was started by some drunken bloke hitting me a few times and was ended by the bouncers kicking me in the face when i wouldn’t get off him.
Senior year in high school. A friend of my sister’s slashed the tires on my car. I caught up with him at lunch. It was a real fight. I got suspended for three days (it would have been expelled, but the kid lived across the street from the principal, and the principal asked me, “Did you win?”
But if a certain someone shows up tonight to where I’m going, I may be the next Doper to get into a fight.
When I was fourteen and in 9th grade, I got into a cat fight with my best friend in homeroom. We had been having little spats on and off throughout the year and finally we just snapped. Neither one of us got in trouble-our homeroom teacher KNEW we were friends and instead sent us to the school nurse to talk about it.
7th grade. He slugged me in the shoulder. I kicked him in the shin. We both got detention.
Do hockey fights count? I’m a goalie so I usually leave that stuff to others but the opposing goalie jumped one of our players during a line brawl :rolleyes: so I had to go over and introduce myself.
“I hurt somebody’s feelings once.”
(Does it get any better than Robert DeNiro reading a David Mamet-penned line?)
The last “fight” I was involved with was waybackwhen. Not to get into the story, but a guy, trying to impress his friends and girlfriend (who initiated the thing by flirting with me) pulled a balisong knife and started flipping it open and closed while telling me what he was going to do with it. As I’d been studying edged-weapon fighting techniques at the time and knew exactly how messed up knife fights can be (“One guy goes to the ER and the other to the morgue,” opined my instructor) I was getting ready to crown him with my beer mug the moment he moved toward me. Fortunately, for both of us, in his desire to look cool he managed to close the knife, edge down, on his fingers. He dropped the knife, squealed like a group of school girls at an N’Sync concert, and grabbed his now-bloody hand. For my part, I elected to take that discrection part of valor and high-tailed it out of the bar, never to return.
That’s my one and only knife fight, and I’d like to keep it that way. 
The rest of it are the usual high school things; fights that end up rolling around on the ground or using gym equipment in a pseudo-Jackie Chan-esque manner to ward away a mob of bullies. Funny, they never seemed to come off they way they do in Hong Kong films. :dubious:
I got a bit of a reptutation in high school for being the future Travis Bickle type you don’t want to pick on, but I don’t recommend it; it tends to ward off friends and chicks as well. I think women really do prefer a lover over a fighter.
Stranger
I’m woefully intolerant of rudeness or bullying so, yeah, there’s been a couple.
The last “altercation” was about a year ago after I observed some jackass trying to impress his friends by tossing a lit cigarette onto a car’s vinyl top at an intersection. Next stoplight he pulls up behind me and throws a coin at my car, hitting the rear window. :mad: I put my car in park and walk back to his, lean in through his window until my nose is six inches from his face and read him the damn riot act. Embarassed in front of his friends, the dummy fishes out a rather large knife and starts screaming that he’s going to kill me. As he opens his door and starts to get out, I slam it shut on him with everything I’ve got and go back to my car to call the police. He’s hobbling after me, screaming that his dad’s a cop and he’ll have me killed. Heh, you should have seen all the traffic around us, everyone starts honking their horn at this knife waving idiot and by the time I call 911 there’s several other people calling this guy’s plates in.
T’was quite the commute home that day and, fortunately, relatively boring ever since.
In 7th grade, I got into a fight w/ this girl named Delon Knowles, just so I could feel on her tig ol’ bitties.
She beat the hell out of me for my trouble.
To this day, I still think it was worth it
In high school, on a scout trip, the son of the scout master jumped me on the way to breakfast. I never did find out what his problem was.
Once, in seventh grade. I was the second most unpopular kid in school, you must understand. Now, the cruelest person on the social ladder to the real underdog is not the people on top; they don’t care. It’s the penultimate loser; to whit, me. If I die and wake up in hell, it’s going to be because of all the things I did to this poor child. I tagged her with a nickname that stuck like napalm; whatever she’s doing now, I bet people still call her Maggot. I was ruthless to this poor impoverished fat stupid child. She had absolutely no advantages in life, let me tell you. She even talked back to me in this high pitched flustered gaspy tone that all the other kids mocked. I cringe just thinking about it all.
So one particularly brutal day when we were changing after gym she caught me in the gym and beat the snot out of me. I didn’t stand a chance; she probably weighed twice what I did. I still have a bald spot or two where she ripped my hair out. I deserved every bit of it, but of course that didn’t make me stop calling her Maggot. 
I’ve never been in a fight, but I did bounce a teeter-totter off Pam Milby’s head when I was in second grade. She was mean.
I guess I was pretty mean, too.
I used to sit next to my friend John in 9th grade bio and every few weeks some pretext would come up and we’d start punching each other. It usually lasted about three seconds and then we settled down. Mr. Scott learned to ignore it.
The last real fight I was in was in 5th grade. I hung out with a kid across the street due to proximity, but neither of us liked the other terribly much. One day we started wailing on each other. I was kicking his ass, too, until his mom broke up the fight.
In 11th grade there was another incident but I hesitate to call it a fight. I and several pals were at a friends’s when a group of other folks (that we knew) came by. I wasn’t paying attention to the conversation so I didn’t realize there was some tension between the two groups. (I still don’t know what it was about.) I jumped off the porch to say hi to one of the guys in Group 2 that I joked with in class but he must have thought I was swooping down to attack and he hit me in the solar plexus. That was one of those two-hit fights. Him hitting me and me hitting the ground.
–Cliffy
Not since 7th grade. I fought a lot as a young kid, basically in self-defense while getting teased/pushed around, etc.
A guy took a swing at me in high school, but I blew him off.
Now I’m 46, so it’s been a few years. 
I was in sports in junior high and high school, so I had the usual “fights” when emotions ran amok. The last fight I was in was as a sophomore when, just for giggles, a senior knocked the football out of the crook of my arm while I was waiting to practice snaps. So in the usual prison yard mentality, I had to escalate the whole stupid thing so I could prove I wasn’t anybody’s bitch. The whole time we were going through the “I’m going to kick your ass” routine, and other imprecations about who was going to kick who’s ass, I’m thinking, “What the hell am I doing? He’s going to kick my ass.”
Anyway, we made the usual appointment to meet after practice to kick each other’s respective asses, and it wasn’t fun. Being a sophomore, I wasn’t exactly the sentimental favorite in this particular episode. Picture about 40 guys in a ring around us yelling endearments like “Kick his ass!” and “Put him down!”
The whole thing finally boiled down to trading about two blows each before we were on the ground tussling around and trying to get enough leverage to land a blow. I’m not sure how it ended, but I ended up with a black eye, which meant that I “lost” (he didn’t have a mark on him). I got to wear that little badge of honor around for about 3 weeks.
Ah, good times, good times . . .
Junior year in high school in a bench clearing brawl duing my soccer match. That’s right, soccer match.
I played sweeper, and the forward on the other team took out my legs while I was in the air going for a header. He was talking trash to me as we walked back toward midfield as the ball had been cleared. Little did he know that a guy named Tony McAfee was on my team.
Now Tony was well known for being slightly insane. He had once hit a guy with his folded metal chair at lunch, thrown a desk at a teacher, and so on.
Tony was supposed to be on offense, but when he saw the jawing, he couldn’t help himself. He came back and quickly hit the guy in the nose with two open palms. This guy takes Tony to the ground, and I jump on his back. Tony had a hold of his head and began slamming heads together as hard as he could. I was punching the guy in his right ear.
I felt a strange little “nip” at the back of my head at some point. It happened again, only this time I’m more aware, and it hurts a little. Another, and this one really freakin’ hurts! I turn over to see that I’m getting kicked in the back of the head with a soccer cleat.
Their entire team had joined the fray while all of our bench players stayed put, and even a few guys on the field walked off. Parents stormed the field to clear up the mess.
The best part was that it was homecoming weekend and Tony McAfee was a senior attendant. I still have the homecoming picture with his big black eye and goofy smile.
The other kid was a mess…a bloody mess, really.
Long enough for ya?
I hope you come out of this OK.
But seriously. I’ve read some of your other posts over the years, and I think you’ve got an issue here. Fighting in the workplace is not OK, ever. And even outside the workplace it can get you into more trouble than you know what to do with, however honestly you were provoked. Simple bar fights get morphed by the criminal justice system in to assault with a deadly weapon. That happened to a friend of mine. He was in a bar fight, and ended up doing nearly a year for assault. I wasn’t with him when it happened, so it’s true that there might have been more to it than I was told, but bad things can definitely happen.
two years ago, playing hockey…with my own teammate…
He was the worst player on the team, and he was giving me a hard time. We yapped back and forth, then he got up, came down the bench, and we started trading punches…
…except…
he’s a defensive man, I’m a goalie. With my shoulder pads on I’ve got about a 36" reach, definitely cannot extend my arms all the way. I took a pummeling.
Sixth grade. First and only fight, if you could call it that. This stupid girl in my apartment complex (checks to make sure this isn’t the Pit) had been saying all manner of crap about me for a couple of weeks, once her baleful gaze had fallen on me. I ignored her as much as possible, since my wit generally fails me in those situations. She had a reputation for picking on people for no reason at all except that they were there. She indicated to me that the blow would fall some time after we got off the bus after school. One afternoon we got off the bus, as usual. She pushed me hard. I’ve always had terrible balance, and immediately hit the sidewalk. My chin scraped the concrete, she called me a few uncreative and undeserved names, and walked away. That was that. Later I found out from a few other people that if I’d fought back, she would have made my life hell. Taking that shove was one of the wisest things I could have done. The scrape looked like a weird rash for a week or so.