ok heres my favorite example of talking my way out of a fight.
I worked in a honky tonk as a bouncer and one night a guy walked in,about 6’2", maybe 300 pounds.We noticed,first off,that he looked like he had waded through a pool of blood.I mean,his boots were soaked,his pants drenched,and his shirt splattered.It wasnt his blood.
Well a guy in the bar had seen what happened ,this beast had CLEARED OUT a bar alone!Hed beat three bouncers and 5 or 6 other guys(everyone else was smart and ran),and then went on a kicking spree on the poor fallen souls he’d whooped.
Of course,my luck,he started getting beligerent,and call me a coward,iwas scared as hell.Well Tiny,the resident biker went up to the guy ,and I got about 8 feet behind the bad guy ,planning on doing a double stepping side kick when he inevitably ( I thought) attacked Tiny. I was going to try to crush the base of his spine(i was wearing boots and wouldve had a clear wind up)or pop a kidney or spleen.Yea I know this sounds dumb ,but this guy was dangerous and I wasnt going to be the next victim.it might not even have worked but it was the best I could come up with.Well Tiny,a short,fat ugly guy, went up to him and said “hey buddy,youve had a rough night,let me buy ya a drink!” and put his arm around the fellow like they were lifelong friends.We got hima coffee and bought him a cab.I had to babysit him while we waited for the cab,and he told me stories about his bull riding career.Of course he was lying,he was way too big to be a rodeo guy,but the guy was a nut case and seemed to want to talk about it.The worst part was he insisted on putting his smelly arm around me and breathing dung breath in my face,but it was a small price to pay to get him out of my bar.
My other story ,I worked in a club and a group of New orleans cops(I live about 40 miles from the big easy) on a binge had a beef with some punks over a pool game.Well, the bouncing crew I worked with sucked,and the first guys there only made the situation worse by being unprofessional jerks.Street cops,even off duty,have a very low crap tolerance.Well I got there and,seeing the situation,moved around to the back of the cops group(BTW,never bunch up if a fight is about to start,spread out and think about flanking and cheap shots).Of course,these guys were cops,and of course,one of them was watching their backs.
He saw what I was doing and turned and confronted me,saying "you and me are tying up when this goes down.“I looked at the situation,the numbers were even,my fellow bouncers were chumps,and these cops looked street hard and experienced.I figured we were in for a whoopin,if the fight had started me and mine wouldve been eaten alive by these guys.I looked the fellow in the eyes while pushing a chair behind me out of the way with my foot,and said"man,I hope it doesnt go that way,but its up to you”.Believe it or not,he stared for asecond ,then said "man ,youre allright,Im sorry man,"shook my hand and began to calm his buddies down.I immediatly went to the front of my group,where the fools i worked with were still talking smack,and got between them and the cops.
I managed to get them to back off enough for the cops to calm down and leave.The funny part is ,these dam idiots were talking crap later about how lucky the cops were to back down!A week later a big fight broke outand the whole crew got chewed up.Me,I saw which way the wind was blowing ,picked a corner and just survived.It sounds really cheesy,but i felt no obligation to these idiots I worked with.I had worked with good crews before,and these guys were dam punks who wanted to prove their manhood.
Ok those are my two favorite getting out of bad situation stories.Sorry,Im not a good storyteller,but I think I got the idea across.