The closest I came to shooting anyone is about 30 years ago, I honked at a car in front of me, sitting at the green light, not moving. At the next light, both the driver and passenger got out, with aluminum baseball bats, and were screaming they were going to bash my skull in. I was a security guard and carried a Dan Wesson Model 15-2 .357, and as the driver cocked the bat to smash my window, I pulled my gun, and when he saw it, he yelled, "He's got a gun!", and they got into their car and took off. I went home, and a few minutes after I arrived, the police showed up. I was still in my uniform, and it was nearly identical to their own, and they said that someone had called and said I had pointed a gun at them for "no reason". I laughed and told them what really happened. The cops said, "Why should we believe you?" I had a great answer, "Because unless I'm psychic, how would I know there are two baseball bats in the car, one blue and silver, the other orange and silver?" The cops let them fill out and sign reports and then busted them. The one guy, even after the cops told them the baseball bats gave them away, still didn't understand why they got caught lying. They pled guilty to filing a false police report.
I remember wondering if I would ever be able to hear again if I did have to shoot them. A .357 fired inside a car isn't fun.