Internal Bar Fight.

I have been admitted to the bar since I was 15. Not the judicial bar, the alcohol dispensing kind.
I am the same size (of varying hefts) now as I was then.
I find bars more friendly than church. I have been asked to come over and help build a garage by people in a much-frequented bar. Never in a much-frequented church. I digress.
I had my last bar fight 6 years ago. I've had a lot of practice over the years.
Last week a friend was verbally attacked by another acquaintance (who had overserved himself). Friend is female, "un femme d'une age certaine", and diminutive. Said acquaintance is 6'2", but no physical specimen. He was using language that was not allowable, even given the latitude that is allowed the overserved. He then did the unthinkable, the unacceptable. He put his finger in her face, and threatened her.
Immediately, I went into overdrive. Expanded my lungs for more oxygen, clenched my fists and headed for him to take him down.
I then turned around and walked out of the bar.
As I had walked toward them, I had noticed that verbally she gave as good as she got. She had other friends around her should he go any farther. She wasn't in danger.
As the cold air hit my hot head, I realized I was in turmoil. I promised myself six years ago I would never, never fight physically again, excepting for my life. For six years I have not been in a situation to do so.
This situation didn't require it, truly. I thanked the nighttime I saw that in time. I feared I might not have the understanding in time again. I doubted I did the right thing. I am aware of my knight-errant leanings. I felt I should apologize to her, but for what?
We, 8 of us, went to breakfast after closing time. She sat in the booth across from me. At one point she reached across the table, took my hand, and mouthed "thank you". She knew. She had seen, and understood, even in the middle of the verbal nonsense she had to deal with. She wasn't approving the impulse, she was acknowleging the self-control. I nodded my head in gratitude, and ate my suddenly exquisitely-tasty huevos rancheros.
I think we'll count this as a victory in the bar fight won/loss columns.
So decreed.