Sit back, Relax and and let Old mate PanzerBiscuit entertain you(hopefully) with the time my dear old dad almost got arrested in an IGA. For my pals across the sea, an IGA is an independent, owner operated grocery store/supermarket of sorts.
Be me: 17 years old at the time, unknown weight and height Be Bro: 16 years old, same stats for weight and height Be Dad: 56, same height, unknown weight. Don't be: Tradie- fatty with a napoleon complex My brother was learning to drive and was on his L's(Plates with a large "L" indicating to other drivers that a new, or learner driver was operating the vehicle). He was in my dads work car, which has quite obvious decals/stickers promoting his business, which also includes his name and number. My dad was in the passenger seat, and i was in the back.
We had just been picked up from school and were on our way home, by way of the shops when my brother merged onto a main road, and moved into the left hand lane to allow faster flowing traffic to go past him(in Australia the left lane is the slow lane). After about 5 mins, a red ute is sitting all over the bumper of our car, with the driver flashing his lights and honking his horn. My brother was going the speed limit, which was 80km/h for those interested, and the right lane was clear. My brother did what any new driver would have done in this situation, he let of the accelerator and slowed down to 70. The driver of the red ute(Tradie) was annoyed by this sudden decrease in speed, and increased the frequency of his honks, before pulling into the right hand lane, accelerating level to our car and shouting inaudible profanity out the window before speeding off.
We arrive at the shops, and my brother and I are chatting and not really paying attention to dad doing the shopping. It should be mentioned that dad wears a vest emblazoned with his company logo, name, and contact info.
Out of the blue we see a short man, who is very overweight, sweating profusely from the Aussie summer heat, wearing traditional tradie garb. I.e wife beater, footy shorts and steel toes. Approach dad and say "Are you dad's name" to which dad replied in the affirmative. Followed by Tradie's reply of "well you drive like a cunt". The next thing we saw was Tradie crumpled on the floor, clutching his throat, gasping for air. As Dad had just throat punched him.
The next few minutes were a blur, as shocked employees unsure of what to do got the shopping centre security to escort dad outside to await the police. Dad finished his shopping first. Naturally. Police were called, they came to take dads statement, they went to take Tradie's statement but he left before they arrived. We speculated that he had a strong aversion to the boys in blue.
TL;DR some things in life money can't buy, for everything else a throat punch usually works