The man from UNCLE

Yesterday night, 6:45 pm. I'm walking down LaGuardia Place and I see two men, in their sixties I would say, coming toward me. They look like they could be anybody's uncle. Just two older guys talking maybe a little loud. Not shabbily dressed, not wearing track suits or looking drunk or signifiying anything threatening. But one of them, a short, round, bald, uncle-looking kind of guy, just starts throwing garbage on the street, littering to his heart's content as he walks along. Now, had he looked like he belonged to the Yakuza or the Russian Mafia or Tony Soprano's entourage, I'd kept my mouth shut. But he looked like an uncle and I was in no mood to see him blight my neighborhood. So I say to him: "hey, don't throw stuff on the floor" (my English fails me when I most need it). He says to me: "It's for you". So then I say, as I continue walking by: "I live in this neighborhood, you fucking pig". And then Uncle turns around menacingly towards me and screams at the top of his lungs something to the effect that he's going to fucking rip me apart if I don't like it. Luckily, my sense of self-preservation kicked in and I continued walking in the opposite direction, a tad more briskly, not waiting to find out if he meant to deliver on his promise.
As my blood boiled and my adrenaline rushed, something made me not turn around and taunt him further, and I guess it was the fleeting impression that he may just take out a gun and shoot me, or knife me or hit me. I thought of getting the license plates of the car they were getting into and file a complaint, but I didn't dare look back.
I find it shocking that, for Uncle, the fact that I was a woman made no difference to his boorishness. He seemed pretty sincere about fucking me up. Obviously, a guy who throws garbage on the street as if he was throwing himself a ticker tape parade has not been schooled on the finer points of civilized behavior. But still. What animals do we have in our midst.