When I was young, I hated confrontation. Scared the piss out of me. Now, at 71, it doesn’t bother me. Bring. It. On. But at the same time, if someone is patient and kind while I have a block, I tell them how much appreciated their kindness and patience. It’s a two way street. This has nothing to do with stuttering… but last year I had stopped at a KFC for my annual dose of extra crispy chicken wings. My cholesterol goes up just thinking and drooling about it. Anyhoo, I was walking to my car blissed out afterwards and a guy came up behind me and grabbed my shoulder bag and tried to run away. I jerked the purse back and he punched me on the left cheek from the side. I turned and gave him my best right cross in his nose, he fell and I kicked him with my Doc Marten boot (winter wear in Vermont) in the ribs. He stayed down and I called the police on my cell. Cops showed up quickly and asked what happened… my eye was turning purple already…I told the young officer and he says “dang, you’re older than my grandma. Where’d you learn to punch?” My brothers taught me. And I take kick boxing classes in the winter when I can run. Moral of the story: never underestimate a white haired and wrinkled granny or grandpa. Experience is in our side. LOL