I carried a large Vietnam War era Japanese clone of the K-Bar, the K-Ife, in my backpack during high school, and under the front seat when school was out. I bought it at an antiques store in Rochester Minnesota after I got my clock cleaned during the Junior Olympics in Taekwondo (had to pass the time somehow waiting for my concussion to heal).
One night, I pulled into the parking lot at the McDonalds I worked at. I was 17 or 18, and had a friend in the car with me. Both of us looked fairly intimidating--we were both big guys and were into punk/hardcore music. A car pulled up next to us and a couple of knuckleheads in their late 20s sporting mullets, rapist mustaches, and wife beaters looked over at us.
The one in the passenger's seat took out a folder--something the size of a Buck 110--and flashed it at me, grinning ear to ear. He figured he was gonna have some fun with a couple of teenage kids and teach them a lesson...what lesson? Who knows? It was 1990 or 91.
I reached under my seat and pulled out my K-Ife with a 10" fixed blade, flashed it at him, and had an even bigger smile. His grin faded, he quickly dropped his knife, pawed at the shoulder of the driver, yelling "GO! GO! GET OUTTA HERE!!!!!" and they peeled out of the parking lot, never to be seen again.
So, yes, I DO understand the utility of having a bigger blade sometimes
