The four of us – Steve, Karen, Dee and myself – had just finished a relaxing evening in the hotsprings in Bath, and a few drinks in a chill little pub playing some drum’n’bass, and were on our way back to the Travelodge. Walking through the empty downtown streets, it was a cold night even though it was the middle of summer. Enjoying ourselves and chatting it up, we stopped at the crosswalk outside the main bus station to wait for the crosswalk to change when a large Englishman and his lady friend came up beside us.
Just then from far across the street, we hear some random yelling. Knowing this was England and they get a bit out of control, I figured it was just some guy blowing off some steam. But the yelling didn’t stop, and in the shadows from across the street a figure of craziness and destruction appeared. This guy was kicking garbage cans, body checking bus stops and being loser drunk. As he swayed and swerved up to the very same crosswalk we were about to cross, my eyes met Steve and we knew there was going to be trouble.
Someone got far too drunk and was now looking to cause a ruckus. He was pretty young, probably 21 or 22, but looked like he had fallen down all the way from the next town’s bar.
Sizing the situation up, I looked over next to the guy with his lady friend standing beside us, and he reminded me of Dolf Lundgren. About 6’4 and at least 220lbs of lean muscle, he looked like a man who could handle himself. Just then the drunk started yelling in a drunkish slur: “whooo are you? Whoo smuchka fee??” Other negative sounding babble poured from his mouth and just as the crosswalk turned green, the drunk started to cross the street, continuing his incoherent yelling. Steve and I started to walk in front of the girls and kept our eyes on the drunk, knowing in our minds something was bound to happen.
What happened next happened so fast. In the middle of the crosswalk the drunk came running up to Dolf, and literally jumped to swing at his head. Taking the punch like it was from Jean-Claude van Dam, Dolf swung around and proceeded to punch the guy 10-12 times in the head, all within 3 seconds! The drunk was now on the ground with blood coming from his lip. Dolf and his girl starting walking away as did we, all thinking that ordeal was said and done.
But no, the drunkard hadn’t had quite enough and started yelling at Dolf shouting, “Shake my hand asshole” and coming up to him again in a threatening manner. I have to give it Dolf as he stayed calm and kept walking away until the guy pushed him from behind. Another 15 punches in 5 seconds pursued and then it was completely over. The drunk was again knocked down to the ground. Finally, we all made it to the other side of the street and gave Dolf the nod and some praise.
An unbelievable 3 minutes later we saw the drunken guy again, smashing into the bus stop and yelling at nothing. I wonder what the 6 security guards inside the bus station were doing, almost certainly avoiding this loser.
Both Steve and I were pretty happy Dolf happened to walk into our lives at that moment, he certainly saved us a bunch of trouble that night. So my hats off to you Sir, I know who I’ll be rooting for next time Dee watches Universal Soldier on TV.