Yesterday, while walking through the parking lot of Walmart, I passed by a couple, arguing. Well, it was mostly the guy, calling his girlfriend a "f*ckin' moron," and throwing an empty water bottle at her head. I've learned my lesson intervening in these kind of things, and since he wasn't actually beating on her, I ignored them and kept walking. The guy, a white or hispanic guy, wearing Phillies gear from head to toe, and covered in bad tattoos, saw me walking in their direction. I was carrying my gun crossdraw, so it's quick to spot. He stood by his car, forgetting about belittling his grilfriend for the moment. He stared at me, angrily, as I walked. As I passed him, I heard him hiss, "Oh, a f*ckin' tough guy, huh?" I ignored him, and kept walking. He then said, "Yo! You! With the gun!" I turned and faced him, from about 40' away.
"What do you want?" I said.
"Think you're a tough guy with that f*ckin' gun?"
I considered him for a moment, then laughed, and turned around, and continued on my way. I heard him yell out, "Yeah, keep walkin', b!tch. You know you don't want none of this!" I turned my head to look at him as I walked away, and he had his arms raised, in a challenging posture. I then laughed again, and kept walking. "Yo, what the f*ck are you laughin' at, b!tch?" He started to walk after me. "I'm talkin' at you, muthaf*cka! Who you laughin' at?"
I stopped and turned around, putting my left hand on the butt of my gun (it was set up for right handed crossdraw). "You take one more step towards me, and I'm gonna f*ck up your whole day, you understand?" He stopped suddenly, and glared at me.
"You ain't gonna do sh!t."
"Come closer and find out." He stood where he was, and wiped his palms on his thighs. "Keep your hands away from your pockets," I said.
"Alright." He put his hands at his sides.
"What the f*ck is your problem?"
"I ain't gotta problem," he muttered, staring at his shoes.
"I don't what the f*ck is wrong with you, and I don't care. I ain't your girl, and I ain't one of your homies you can talk sh!t to, because you act like some kind of f*cking tough guy with them. I don't know you from sh!t. You from around here?"
"Nah."
"Well, let me give you some advice. The next time you try this sh!t with someone, you better think about it, because the next dude might just shoot your stupid a$$ for actin' a fool. Now get the f*ck out of here."
"Alright." He shuffled back towards his car, and his girlfriend was smirking at him. "The f*ck you smilin' at, b!tch? Get in the f*ckin' car, already!" They both vanished into their red Honda Accord, and I called the police anyway, giving them a full description of both of them, and their car and license plate number. Then I went about shopping.