Bitemarks

These are a bit (he-he) out of order. I have a couple of these that are well on their way to getting lost in the funky skin of an aging man. I was working at a motel in Tucson as the night auditor- desk clerk. A few nights before a liquor store clerk in the area had been clubbed to death and the store was robbed. A guy came into my lobby in the middle of the night, and wanted to know where the pay phone was. I pointed him toward it and he acted like he wasn't sure where I was pointing. The normal reaction would have been to bend forward over the counter and point a little better, but I realized this guy had something behind his back. So I pointed vaguely a second time, and he wandered off in that direction. I reached for the little billy club we had behind the front desk and had it ready to grab. He came back and brandished a stick and told me to give him the money. I grabbed my stick and he leap over the counter and started swinging. I acted like I was going to give up and lowered my stick. He stopped for a second and I jumped him, grabbing on to his stick. I was on the floor and he was kicking me, but I still had a grip on his stick so he couldn't swing it. I knew I had to get up and I did and then forced him back to the wall with his own stick. He couldn't get away so he started biting me. I couldn't feel it, but knew it would hurt later, so I began pounding his face with my free fist. I felt his nose break. He stopped biting me. I swung him back and forth after me into the the counter and then into the wall and then into counter again and when I got near the door, I pushed him back and turned and ran like hell.
He didn't follow. I ran out the front and over to an all night restaurant next door and told the waitress to call the cops. There were two cops sitting there having breakfast. They went back with me, but the guy was gone. The register has been locked the entire time with the key in my pocket, so he didn't get anything.
And I didn't get killed.
My glasses were broken, I had big bruises on my thigh from the kicks, and the bite marks on my arm. They sent me to emergency.
I was scared to go back to work the next night, afraid that he would be back to blow me away and did my work as fast I possibly could so that I could go out front and sit there so I could spot him, if he was coming back. At night, all you could in the front windows and doors was the reflection of yourself. He didn't come back.
A bit later, one of my ex-'s friends suggested that I try to write about it. I did:
http://murderer.us/HoldUpMan/index.htm

I genuinely hope his nose looks real good. And every time he looks in the mirror, he thinks of me.