You can, no doubt, outwit a single woman. No matter how large she may be.
You are already running as her fingers swoop through the air, and an annoyed grunt from so far above you in the heavens indicates that you may have ticked her off more than a little. She's coming after you angry, and that will make her sloppy.
Sure enough, now fists are raining down in your wake, the woman thinking only to smash you, rather than apply a little common sense and cut off your line of retreat; she should be aiming for where you will be, not where you are at the time of striking.
Then the moment you feared approaches. The edge of the hard, metal table is nearing, and the drop to the floor is considerable. You've never planned very far ahead before, so there's no undue cause for concern. Something will come up. Something always does.
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