Posted by Arthur on 10/18/2002, 11:37 am
Board Administrator

Somewhere near the end of summer, 1980, a truck crossing the Oakland-San Francisco Bay bridge dropped a large quantity of a white powdery substance on the upper deck roadbed and the driver either failed to notice or didn't care and drove on to his destination. This was in the late afternoon, just as the commute hour was wrapping up. When the spill was noticed, the bridge authorities and the highway patrol could not determine the nature of the substance and, suspecting that whatever it was, the white powder could be toxic and safety dictated that they close the bridge until it could be analyzed and cleaned up. As it turned out, the bridge was closed for almost nine hours, causing the largest traffic snarl ever seen before or since in the Bay Area. Thousands of cars filled with frustrated commuters were stopped and immovable on the Bay Bridge toll plaza and stretching back to the freeways leading up to the span. The white substance was later found to be cat litter. I was one of those unfortunate commuters. I had almost made it across, my car was stopped in the toll plaza. If I had been twenty minutes earlier, I probably would have made it across, but I missed it and there I was unable to move forwards or backwards, suddenly an unwilling captive to twentieth century life styles. I had a date to meet my father for dinner that evening, and it became clear to me that I would be late as the hours stretched on. There were no cellular phones then, so at some point I left my car and walked across the plaza to the center island where the bridge offices were. I knew there was a public phone there and figured I would call my father and let him know what was going on. I was not the only person who had that idea. The phone booth was surrounded by a swarm of frustrated and angry people, all trying to get to the phone at the same time. Some cooler heads were trying to form a line with some success, and as I tried to find my place on the line I heard shrill voices raised ahead of me. The yelling continued and I stepped forward to see what the commotion was all about. There were two women, both black, one in her late twenties, the other probably ten years older and a little bigger, apparently disputing who would next use the phone. Both women were tall, well-proportioned and attractive. The older woman was well dressed in a red pants suit and white blouse. The younger one, somewhat slimmer than her opponent but the same height, was wearing a short denim skirt and a sweater. The argument these two were having was becoming physical when I first spotted them. The younger woman was trying to push her way into the phone booth, the older woman had her by the arm and was trying to pull her out and push herself in at the same time. They were yelling at each other and threatening each other with abuse. The crowd started to back away, sensing a fight coming. It wasn't long in coming. The older woman grabbed her rival’s sweater with both hands and hauled her completely out of the phone booth, tearing the sweater open and mostly off in the process. There was a gasp from the crowd and a moment where both stood motionless staring at each other, the younger woman's mouth open in shock and then she drew back and sent her right fist straight into the older woman's face sending her staggering backwards into the side of the phone booth. She immediately rushed her opponent with fists flying. The next few minutes were a wild melee of feminine fisticuffs. I expected that they would start hair-pulling and wrestling around on the ground and there were some hair yanks, but it was mostly fists and legs. That's my impression of this fight, just nonstop action, both women on their feet, arms and legs moving and the sound of feminine grunts and curses. I also expected that someone would step in and stop the fight, but nobody did. Too good a show, I guess. I certainly wasn't going to stop it. Oh, both women also seemed intent on stripping the other, maybe because the tone of the fight was set by the bigger woman ripping the other's sweater, maybe for the humiliation factor, I don't know, but before long they had torn each other's clothes to shreds. At some point the younger woman sort of tripped or was knocked off her feet. She fell lightly and scrambled back to her feet but didn't attack. Both women were pretty dazed and bruised as well as tired and out of breath. The older woman was wearing only panties, fancy pink nylon briefs, and the younger woman was in a bra and white bikini panties with lace trim. Her nose was bleeding and her face looked reddened and puffy. Her opponent looked worse. Blood was flowing from the bigger woman's nose and mouth, one eye was puffed closed, and her breasts were very red and swollen looking. She was sobbing a bit. I can't tell you how sexy they both looked at that moment and you can just imagine my excitement at this! They stood glaring at each other for maybe fifteen seconds, then the big woman charged. She seemed to be going for a bear hug or maybe she wanted to even things up by getting her opponent's bra off, whatever she had in mind I never found out because the younger woman lunged forward with her right fist flying and met the charge with a wicked blow to the other woman's jaw and the bigger woman went down heavily and lay there weeping and only semi-conscious. The younger woman headed toward her, looking like she wasn’t done yet, but at that point several people stepped in and stopped her. That night when I finally got home I imagined it vividly in my mind. That was a great fight with a clear victor and I've never forgotten it.