In my early twenties I suffered badly with road rage and could not count how many times I vacated my vehicle to square up to much larger men Than myself. It only ever ended in fisticuffs once because I think they saw the genuine rage in my eyes as I shouted at them how bad there driving was, with no real violent intent on my part I was just very very angry.
The one time I did was when I was sat at lights with my window open and some bloke walked up and put one on my chin without warning. So I jumped out and noticed a piece of 4×2 hardwood protruding next to my seat as I had no bulkhead in my van and due to the sliding door was able to grab it out through the front.
Thing was it turned out to be over 3 meters long and i felt like a magician pulling a never ending row of knotted hankies from his top hat as I passed hand over hand to eventually free up my weapon of choice.
And I then had to hold it in the middle to hit him with it, which I did until he decided he had enough and left.
That night I suffered from badly bruised ribs due to the fact that everytime I swung it away from him to then hit him with it I was hitting myself with the other end.
I once while walking over to a pretty girl in a nightclub tripped down a step and poked her in the eye if that counts.