It was early 2002, I had stopped for gas at a local convenience store. My girlfriend at the time remained in the car. She was literally a Houston debutante at one point and her boyfriend before me was an astronaut. I was her walk on the wild side. I didn't mind and value our time together. Of course, coming from two different places our relationship was doomed from day one but I'll always have a place in my heart for her.
This was either before pay at the pump, or I only had cash, I have no idea but either way, I had to walk from the gas pumps to the store to pay for my gas but when I got there, there was a foreign man blocking the door with his right hand holding the door open and his left hand on the door jamb, screaming at the female cashier, "YOU ARE BEECH! YOU ARE BEECH! YOU ARE NOTHING BUT BEECH!" He was screaming this as ugly and violently, hatefully, and loudly as he as possibly able to do. I had no idea what had transpired to lead up to this but I needed to get inside and so I said, "Excuse me" and he turned, looked at me, sneered, and returned to berating the clerk, "YOU BEECH! YOU ARE BEECH! YOU ARE NOTHING BUT BEECH!" I was getting a bit annoyed with him, but again said, "Excuse me", her turned and glared at me, continued to block the door and continued his rant but further added, "I KEEL YOU, BEECH!" I had pretty much lost my patience, but once again, I said, but firmly, "EXCUSE ME!" and he turned, looked at me and said, "I KEEL YOU, TOO!"
That was it. He had reached the furthest limits of my patience. I popped him with a left jab, grabbed him by his hair, spun him around and smacked his head, real hard, face first, primarily forehead, into the payphone about five times, BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! and turned him around again, and told him to open the door. He complied (and was bleeding profusely. The face bleeds badly when cut). I strongly suspect that he couldn't even see at that point because blood was flowing from his gashed forehead into his eyes and down his face. I certainly didn't care. I instructed him to apologize to the clerk and he said he hesitated so I smacked his head against the door jamb. He told her, "I am soddy!" and he was sorry. I then forced him against the pay phone and explained that she works very hard, for very little money, with an uncooperative public and the last thing she needed was for him to be throwing a tantrum. I asked if he understood and he said yes. I then explained that anti-immigrant hatred was rampant since 9-11 and that it would be in his best interests to not stoke the fire of that hatred and threw him down, went in, and paid for my gas.
The clerk ran around the counter, hugged me, and thanked me and informed me that he was upset because she refused to let him use the restroom because every time she did, mysteriously, human feces was rubbed everywhere when he left. I rather doubt I corrected his excrement smearing behavior, but I do suspect he worked on his manners after that day. It's very naive to say that violence never solves anything. I am 100% sure that after that day he took a much more cautious approach on how he dealt with people.
When I got back to the car, said girlfriend called me a maniac because she was entirely unfamiliar with those sorts of interactions and perhaps that contributed to our breakup but we sure had great sex when we got home.