They say the crocodile has the greatest biting force of any animal at 5,000 psi. One 19 ft long Nile crocodile had a bite measured at 5,600 psi. That can cleave through a bowling ball with ease. I think the crocodile would probably take the bowler first for no other purpose than ease of digestion, but pulverizing a bowling ball with only your jaws is still an impressive achievement. Another animal with a phenomenal bite is the African Spotted Hyena whose bite has been at measured over 1,000 psi. This animal preys on humans on occasion. Attacks on people have been recorded as far a field as Malawi, Uganda, Mozambique, Azerbaijan, and even India. In 2004 35 people were killed in a twelve-month period along the Mozambique/Tanzania border. Finally, did you know the bite of the Gila Monster is so powerful that to remove it from the area bitten you sometimes have to cut off its head from its body?
I married my wife for one reason, and one reason only, she wanted me. No other woman has ever said, acted, or intimated that simple thing. My wife wanted me. Yes, I loved her. She was beautiful. Deep, thoughtful passionate brown eyes, long classic brown hair reaching to her rear. She was five foot three inches and had an ass so hard you could crack a walnut on it. She was 41 years old, Mexican, only spoke Spanish, had 3 wonderful kids (lost a fourth), and on welfare. Her husband walked out on her, but she never once lost her dignity, integrity, or charm. She still under all that had the nerve to tell me, a successful, single, employed man that if I was not interested in a serious relationship, one ending in marriage, to take a hike. But if I was interested, she wanted her next marriage to be to me.
And she was passionate.
It is a stereotype, but my wife was the super passionate Latin woman. During our fights not only words, but also objects were hurled. Among the typical books, pillows, sheets, towels, came coffee cups (with hot coffee included), plates, silverware, and once a chair. I never hurled anything back. Insults and screams yes, but objects never. Reason one is simple. My wife is as mentioned previously small in stature. I on the other hand am huge. Six foot seven inches, 280lbs, and bushy brown hair with blue eyes. At the time sort of a Grizzly Adams appearance, I could easily imagine that if the Police came that one look at the size between the two of us combined with any sign of injury on her part, would lead to an invitation to a free night in the County jail. Despite all this I stayed. Two reasons, she truly loved me and I her. Reason two, the makeup sex was phenomenal.
We had just bought a house in Anaheim, Ca. It had four bedrooms, 3 baths and a big backyard with a small garage. My wife is JEALOUS, or at least was then. She felt I was working too many hours and that I was actually having an affair. So she started following me to work. Parking in front of the building to see who would go in after I arrived and trying to spot the “other woman”. She started following me into the gym. She had her children and our grandchildren tag along with me to keep an eye on me. She began to check my wallet and pants for phone numbers, names, receipts anything to suggest I was banging someone on the side. Finally it all blew up one Wednesday afternoon.
How the fight erupted, exploded, I really don’t remember. I just remember that it was in our bedroom, my shirt was off, and all of a sudden she was hitting me. Not little girl punches, but full force pounding my nose and gouge my eye out punches. I grabbed her hands in mine and handcuffed both of them in my one hand and slammed them against the wall. She screamed and kneed me in the groin. I covered up and then pushed both her legs against the wall and pinned them with my one leg. So here I am, 270lbs of weight pinning the arms and legs of my 110lb wife against the wall. I’m thinking to myself, “Ok bitch, what can you do now?” She leaned forward with her head and bit a chunk of skin a half an inch wide and three quarters of an inch long off my chest. Immediately blood covered my chest. Not little drips of blood, but rivers. I am what my doctor terms “a bleeder”. Small cuts bleed and do not clot easily. Big ones, like having a chunk ripped out of your chest, are like the Mississippi River at flood stage.
Now here is the weird part. Immediately she starts crying, sobbing, and wants to take me to the hospital. The same woman who for no apparent reason attacked me, pummeled my face with blows that caused my nose to bleed, kicked me in the balls, and to top it off ripped a chunk of flesh from my chest with her teeth, now wants to baby me. I mean really, it may be a defect of my character, a shortcoming of my soul, but if your going to intentionally hurt someone then you should just do it with no apologies. Call me old fashioned but why waste the effort to intentionally inflict pain, suffering, and spill blood only to feel immediately repentful? Beat, stab, punch, backhand, whatever it may be. But if your intentionally going for the hurt, then hurt! With no regrets.
The trip to the hospital was a simple ride completely lacking dignity. I wore a blood stained white t-shirt with a blood stain the size of a balloon, dripping down to my pants. Screaming and borderline crying all the way. I got to the hospital, where no one believed my story. I would have been better off telling them I fought off a man trying to rob me with a knife. It would have been more respectable at least. I was told that the treatment for a “flesh wound” was a simple compressed bandage to staunch the blood flow. Next came the shots. Shots for pain, antibiotics, tetanus and then distemper. The treatment is the same that you would do for a dog bite, only in this case they wouldn't be turning my wife into Animal Control to be put down. I could only wish.
This meant I had to miss the following day at work. I was the Warehouse Supervisor and the following day I had to report to Tim Goff’s office. Tim was the Plant Manager for the Kwikset-Anaheim Facility. I sat there telling him the story. He first seamed angry I missed the prior day, slowly he looked more and more like a child being told a story of witches, knights, dragons, and maids in distress. Eyes getting wider, and a smile creeping on his face the whole length of the story. At the end he looked at me and said if I wanted a day off I should just ask or schedule it like everyone else. I pulled open my shirt and ripped off the bandage covering the wound. He let out a conscious “Holy Fuck”. Got up and walked into the next room and said, “You gotta come hear this story. Its the craziest fucking thing you ever heard.”
