Joe's life lesson

Me Grandpa Joe could be, he generally was, quite emphatic about what he thought. Yet every now and then he could be surprisingly understated. This trait is displayed in one tale told by me Pops.
In the old neighborhood, Joe had a garage behind his house. Garages in that part of Detroit as now were accessed through the alleys. Several times, when Joe was getting in late, a certain inconsiderate neighbor would have his car parked in the alley blocking Joe's garage. He would park his own car and go get inconsiderate neighbor to move his. The guy would grumble (like he didn't know what the problem was) but he would do it.
This happened again for umpteenth time one night when me Pops, about 14, was with his dad. Grandpa told Pops to go to the guy's door and ask him to move the car. This time the man, sneering at the young teen in front of him, said no, he wasn't going to do it.
Dad went back to Joe, expecting the old man to explode and go after the miscreant himself. Instead me Grandpa just took a drag on a cigarette and said, "Well, I guess we oughta go get a cop." They found one (that could actually happen in Detroit in 1950) and the officer went to the house and told the man to move his car as it was blocking Joe's garage and was parked illegally anyway. Inconsiderate neighbor complied with the nice policeman's order.
Yet he wasn't so nice to Joe. After Joe had parked, the guy came around the corner and began to berate him. "You ain't man enough to do your own work, eh? You send your boy to do it, then get a cop," and so on and so forth, in bluer language than I'm using.
Grandpa Joe smoked passively the whole time. 'I can't believe he's taking this so easily,' me Pops thought over and over.
Finally, Joe finished his cigarette. He looked at inconsiderate neighbor and said quietly, "Well, I can see you won't be happy until I whip your ass." He tossed down the cigarette butt and lunged at the guy, getting maybe one punch in.
Inconsiderate neighbor avoided another and skittered away. Dashing back to his house he yelled, "I'm getting my shotgun, and you better not be here when I get back!"
Me Grandpa Joe, and I get a kick out of seeing this in my mind's eye, simply leaned against the wall of the garage and lit another smoke. He stood drawing on it, waiting patiently.
'C'mon, Joe, let's go,' Dad thought over and over. 'He's getting a shotgun.'
After a second cigarette Joe said to Pops, "Let's go, boy. We're done with him."
Me Pops always figured it was meant as a lesson in dealing with petty bullies. And there may be something to that. I.N.'s car never blocked Joe's garage again.