I just wanted to relax, so I headed to a club. But when I got there, the security bouncer blocked my way.
“It’s a club. The nursing home’s down the street,” he sneered.
I stood my ground. “Sir, I have a right to be here like everyone else.”
He wasn’t having it. “I don’t care, our boss cares about the reputation of the club. Get outta here!”
I warned him, “Your boss won’t be thrilled when he finds out who you didn’t let in.”
He laughed. “Who, the Pope? Don’t hold up the line, old fart, or I’ll throw you out!”
As we argued, a thug approached, mocking me. “Hey, grandpa, I have something for you,” he said, trying to kick me. Little did they know, I’m a retired special forces operative.
As he swung, I stepped aside, grabbed his ankle, and twisted it just enough to unbalance him. He stumbled, and I swiftly pinned him to the ground.
“Maybe next time, think twice before messing with your elders,” I told him.
The bouncer was stunned and quickly stepped aside. I brushed off my jacket and walked into the club, the crowd silent behind me. Inside, the music thumped, and I felt a rush of satisfaction. The bartender, noticing, nodded at me.
“I heard what happened outside. Nice moves, old man,” she said.
“Thanks. Just looking for a night to relax, you know?”
The night started with a confrontation but ended on my terms.
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