I watched The Americans on Netflix with my son and he rolled his eyes at Elizabeth winning fist fights with guys twice her size. I didn't say anything and I don't know about fist fights but I know how to wrestle a man. My brother taught me when I was a kid. Of course, a bigger boy always had a weight advantage but I had the advantage of surprise. They weren't expecting to get floored by a skinny teenage girl. It was a skill I'd found useful more than once. My 18-year-old son had this friend Kenny who I can't stand. He's a total creep who's unable to get over himself at all. He comes on to me privately although I'm old enough to be his mom. I always just ignored it thinking he was just being a jerk. He came round one afternoon when I was alone doing some ironing. He asked for coffee in a cocky kind of way and I gave him a cup and went back to my ironing board. The next thing, he's got me from behind by the upper arms, pulling them back and pressing them against my sides and forcing himself against me. He had a hard on I could feel against my ass through his jeans. I knew at once he planned to rape me. I didn't hesitate at all. I cracked his shin with a sharp back heel which made him yelp and drop my arms. I spun round and hit him square on the nose with my fist and aimed a kick at his balls which unfortunately missed. He was completely disoriented by my violence; I was dead focused. I got him by the arm, ducked and threw him over my back so that he crashed into the table where we eat which is solid and heavy. I knew I'd hurt him but that didn't stop me. He was lying winded on the floor. I jumped on him grabbed his hair and bashed his face into the floor several times. If his nose wasn't broken before, it was now. I couldn't believe the amount of blood. Even so, I was so mad I wouldn't have stopped if my son hadn't come home. He pulled me off. “You're friend thought he'd like to rape me,” I told him. My son wanted to call the cops but I wouldn't let him. I've had problems with the police in the past and I didn't want the hassle. We got the whimpering creep on his feet and told him he had the option of keeping his mouth shut or going to jail and not being entirely stupid he chose silence. I made him clean up the blood and we threw him out of the house. I haven't seen him since and I think my husband is puzzled by what seems to be a private joke beween me and my son. I told my brother though and he thought it was a hoot.