Home Visit and Old Ties
It was sometime in the 90s. I was back home in Nyborg, Denmark - visiting my mom. At the time, I was working on a highly confidential coding project in Sweden. Most people around knew me from the days when I played with Nam Dihn - a hard rock band I was in for a few years. Amazing guitarist. Killer drummer. But that’s a story for another day.
The Night Out
We were out one night - a bar, some drinks, the usual. I didn’t notice him at first, but apparently, one guy had a problem with me. Maybe it was the long hair. Maybe something else. What he didn’t seem to realize was that most of the people around me were old friends. Loyal ones.
Out of nowhere, this guy grabs my hair and starts dragging me toward the door.
Big mistake.
What he didn’t expect was how quickly my friends reacted. They flew in - pulled him off me - and dragged him outside. One of them came back and asked me if I wanted a 1-on-1 fight with him. I said no.
Then - just as they let him go - I jumped him. Quick and clean. He didn’t expect it, and neither did my friends. I bent his arm back - over the elbow - until it made a sound no joint should make. Then I let him go. No need for more.
A Line Crossed
We all went back inside - except for one of my friends. A biker. He stayed outside and gave the guy a real beating. So much so that the police showed up.
When they asked who did it, I raised my hand. I told them he went for me first.
What I didn’t realize was just how bad my friend had finished the guy off after I’d gone back in. I had no idea. The guy couldn’t even walk.
The cops took me to the station. The young officer looked at me like he knew I wasn’t telling the full story - but he logged it. I spent the night in custody.
The Courtroom
Next morning, I faced a judge. My lawyer - a real hotshot - told me to claim self-defense. Luckily, the bartender had seen it all - saw that the guy had dragged me by my hair. When they brought the guy in (in a wheelchair, no less), he admitted he started it. Said it was his fault.
Still, the judge looked at me and said:
"You can't run around and beat up people like that."
I replied: "I was defending myself. Maybe I overreacted a bit."
I got time - not much - and served it in an open prison. I was okay with it. My biker friend came to visit and said, “I owe you.”
I told him, “No you don’t.”
Inside the Prison
The other inmates? They saw him roll in on a motorcycle and figured I must be someone not to mess with. They kept their distance. Some didn’t even look me in the eye.
Weird stuff happened at night, but I stayed alert. I didn’t need to worry long. A new guy arrived. Turned out he was sent by my friend - instructed to watch over me 24/7. We ended up in the same room with 11 others. I never forgot that. I was lucky to have friends like that.
I helped that guy later, too - some alternative coding for a personal matter involving his daughter. No hesitation.
The Release
On my last day, I was released with a few others. One big guy started acting tough on the transport to Silkeborg. His friend whispered something to him about my friends - he backed off fast.
I returned to Sweden right away. Luckily, it all happened during my month off.
But I did go to my boss and tell him the truth. He thanked me for being honest and even asked the Danish police for the file. That’s when I found out - they’d placed me where they did to protect me. The official record called it self-defense.
Later, that same guy - the one who dragged me out by my hair - made headlines. He was sentenced to life in Asia for murder. I guess the judge saw something in him that I didn’t.
Final Word
Let me be clear:
I didn’t start it.
I didn’t want it.
But I ended it.
He grabbed me. I defended myself. What happened after I walked back in - that wasn’t on me.
I'm a loving, peaceful person. But if you try to hurt me - really try -
You're done. Capiche?