Two of us running a quiet little wine bar, him behind the bar, me taking a break at the back of the room. Three lads come in and we both recognised them as the ones who had trashed one of the rooms upstairs the previous week. When my co-worker refused to serve them, one of them grabbed a bottle and hit it against the bar, trying (and failing) to break it for a weapon.

I saw red. All 5'4" of me advancing in fury, yelling "get out" repeatedly at the top of my voice. They looked at me, froze for a second, then scrambled out the door.

I was quite impressed with myself until I turned round and saw one of our regulars, a great big bear of a man, had heard the commotion and come in from the back room to see what was going on.