The year was 1966. I went back to South Jersey for a weekend away from Penn State “Happy Valley.” Four friends and myself had stopped at a local bowling alley for a game or two.
For some unknown reason a tall, dark, menacing man came over to our group and picked me out as the one who needed a beating for sure!
Realizing that my friends would be of no help, I had to do something quickly. So I looked him directly in his blood shot eyes and firmly stated:
I may be small …
But I’m weak!!!
The man stopped in his tracks; laughed; and then just walked away with a smile on his face.
I’d say! My crazy sense of humor had saved my sorry ass that particular day!