Here’s an interesting story that a friend had reminded me of about an event we had both attended.
Back in the day, when I had moved out of the city I was very bored and was looking for things to do. I’ve always loved sports / physical type activities growing up so I gravitated towards martial arts. I ended up joining a karate school. I figured it could be a good way to learn some self defense and self discipline. I remember learning katas and trying to get good at them. I remember all of the drills we had to do with punching, kicking, and blocking. It was a good experience learning how to use my body in different self protective ways.
I was actually quite surprised that my parents were so supportive of me learning martial arts because they would never let me when I was a child, so I kinda expected some pushback. However, there was none. Considering my childhood interests were basketball, legos, model kits, videogames, action figures, race cars, computers, I think they were afraid if I also learned martial arts I would’ve spontaneously grown a wee wee or something.
My parents tried their best to keep me in less masculine activities. For example, they put me through ballet classes, bribed me with video games so that I would wear pink dresses, and bought me Barbie dolls. I tolerated it but then I’d be like wtf do you expect me to do with these Barbies? They aren’t cool at all and won’t fit into my toy collection. So, in an attempt to fix my parents’ mistake of buying me such uncool toys, I’d cut off my Barbie’s hairs, accidentally making them look a bit psychotic, and then made them do lewd things with each other and Ken. Chaos baby only knows how to do chaotic things. One look at Ken’s face and I knew he was into psycho women, so I let them have at it. They were clearly hot and horny for each other. My Barbies were now cool and could join the rest of my toy collection. All is right in the world again — my play space is 🔥
In my parents’ older age, I think they saw the benefits of me knowing self defense, as I had entered the larger world no longer under their protection, so they were totally cool with it. While I didn’t get too far in karate with only at most half a year of training, overall, I did enjoy the experience. It was a memorable time and I’m glad I attended that school.
I had met someone at that karate school, who happened to be a very seasoned black belt, and we ended up becoming good friends. She took me under her wing and trained me in fitness for a while. She was intense in the ways that I enjoyed. For example, her home security system included immediate sight of katanas right at the entrance at arm’s length upon opening the door. If I remember correctly, you can even catch a glimpse of the katanas through the little windows by the door even before entering the home. Apparently, this security system was very effective. I loved spending time with her. She was also incredibly kind and generous with me. She never made me pay for her fitness classes, which I’ve always deeply appreciated considering how poor I was at the time. I did my best to repay her generosity through art and gifts though.
My friend invited me to her cardio kickboxing class at the dojo. I was interested but wasn’t sure if I needed to wear my gi (karate uniform) so I asked about dress code. She said comfy and I was like great! Oblivious to social codes, I showed up to class in baggy shorts and an oversized t-shirt, which was super comfy, while every other woman was dressed to the 10s in their slim fitting workout clothes looking like they just jumped out of a fitness magazine. I looked like a child who was wearing her father’s clothes hanging out by the ice cream shop. Clearly, my autistic definition of comfy did not match societal women’s definition of comfy. It was a shocking and eye opening experience for me. My friend was nice though, she didn’t mention anything and was totally cool about my fashion faux pas. I had so much fun in her class.
Eventually, my friend invited me to her at home basement workout class. Considering how much fun I had at the dojo, I agreed to go. The first day I attended, this time dressed much more appropriately after the other time’s fiasco, she had me start with cardio kickboxing and then she had me lifting these industrial sized tires. They were MASSIVE! I had so much fun flipping them back and forth. I felt like the Hulk. RWARRRRRRR!!! But then I couldn’t feel my legs after the workout session and had to sit in her home for some time before I was confident I could press on the brakes while driving home lol. Thankfully, a few hours later, I was able to hobble my way back to my car and made it home safely. Oh do I miss those days. Good times.
Of course, not everything about my karate experience was so honky dory — there was one part about karate that I absolutely hated, and it was ground fighting. Yuck.
I’m someone who gets disoriented really easily. I can’t play certain video games like Call of Duty because my motion sickness immediately kicks in and I get obliterated by that. My head gets hella spinny and I’m all out of commission. So when it came to being thrown around on the mat, I was not too pleased. I tried my best anyway and did the exercises as I was taught, constantly getting thrown back and forth, bracing for impact and disorientation each time. I learned how to hold someone down and what it’s like to be held down. I learned how to toss someone off of my body. I learned how to reverse roles. I’d feel so relieved when those exercises were done though. Whatever, it is what it is. At least I got through them.
When I moved back to the city, I wanted to continue learning martial arts. At the time, the movie franchise Ip Man was super popular and so I looked for a school that taught Wing Chun. I found one close enough to work and decided to sign up. I figured it could be a good after work activity to naturally get some fun fitness in as well. It was a bit of a different experience from my time with karate. I learned their versions of katas and ugh, more ground fighting. I took their women’s self defense classes as well. I met some cool si hings and si jehs (martial arts brothers and sisters) there. I think my relationships with them were what kept me at the school for some time. They were awesome!
Anyway, one summer’s day I was invited to a friend’s gathering at a park. They had invited everyone to hang out and mingle. I also had dinner plans with my family later that evening in the city, so I figured I could go to the party first and then make my way into the city from there. Ezpz.
When I arrived at the location, one of the guys there decided to strike up a conversation with me, except what was strange is that he had boxing gloves on. He made a lot of boxing moves and gestures in the air, as if he were air boxing. While I don’t remember his exact words, as it’s been so long, I believe he said something along the lines of, “So, I heard you’re learning Wing Chun! How good are you?” and I responded with some thing like, “Yes! I’m having a good time! I’m pretty new at it!”
For whatever reason, maybe to test out my abilities, this guy starts air punching me in the face, like inches away, where I could feel the wind from every punch. I asked him to stop multiple times and he wouldn’t. He just kept going at it. The annoyance I felt was mounting up and up. In martial arts, we are taught never to hurt or intimidate others with our skills, but to use them responsibly and for self defense. So I was surprised why this guy was openly trying to intimidate or challenge me in public. None of my martial arts brothers and sisters would ever act in such a way. Power is meant to be used to protect, not to intimidate, harass, or to show off. At that moment, I definitely felt the need to defend myself or do something to quickly put an end to his behavior.
Since words weren’t working, as my multiple requests for him to stop fell on deaf ears, I figured the quickest and most effective way to get this guy to stop this undesired behavior is to do something that’ll discourage him from continuing. So I did what my autistic self felt was right at the moment — I kicked him in his wee wee. Not too hard to cause permanent damage, but just hard enough to let him know I meant business. It clearly landed hard enough where he had to stop what he was doing and take a step back. I was like GOOD! That’ll teach him. I was relieved that I finally got him to stop for even a moment.
However, not too long after, he came back at me again with his punches, but this time much more aggressively. A bit startled, I immediately and instinctually kicked him in his wee wee again, even harder this time, which stopped him in his tracks. I think at that point, other people from the gathering started to step in and ask what was going on, like… they were wondering why was I kicking this poor guy where it hurts? Well, I didn’t feel safe at all and it was the only way I could figure out how to get him to stop, which he did and I was like okay good. But geez, I wondered what is wrong with this dude? Is he dense? Folks separated us and tried to keep us apart after that.
Some time had passed, things had calmed down and were peaceful again, or so I thought. I remember standing in an intimate circle happily chatting with a few lovely friends. All of a sudden, I felt this targeted attention, extreme hateful energy, coming at me from a particular direction and I immediately turned towards it. At the moment, what I saw was Mr. Air Boxer, perhaps around 10 feet away, eyes locked onto me, crouched down slightly, completely red in the face, positioned in a raging bull stance and ready to charge at me. I had to figure out quickly what to do as there wasn’t much time to spare. Literal split second decisions had to be made. From what I’ve learned in martial arts, going head to head with a strong force is not a good idea. It’ll just get the both of us severely hurt. So I decided to let him take me to the ground and take things from there. By my assessment of the situation, I figured the odds might’ve been in my favor.
Mr. Air Boxer charged towards me as forcefully as he could and I braced for impact. I positioned myself the way I remembered from my martial arts training — curling my back slightly to create a nice roll as we descended, naturally protecting my head from forcefully hitting the ground, maybe lifting a knee and using it to create some distance between our bodies in order to prepare for the flip (I don’t remember too clearly as everything happened so quickly), and holding onto him in areas that gave me the most control while also protecting my center. I allowed the momentum of his force to bring us both down to the ground and then I immediately flipped him over. I then put him into a basic stance I had learned from karate with one of his arms trapped between my legs, held tightly by both of my hands. I think the shock of being flipped over immobilized him lol.
The next move I was supposed to do, which we never actually executed in karate class, was to break our opponent’s arm by snapping it the unnatural way. I had to quickly think things through. Mr. Air Boxer appeared to be a close friend of the friend who had invited me to this party. Does this particular situation warrant the guy having his elbow broken? I decided no. So I ended up just tickling his torso with my right hand. After that, Mr. Air Boxer did not try to attack me anymore, thank goodness. If he actually knew ground fighting, I’m sure he would’ve known how to recover and quickly reposition himself after being flipped over. But he didn’t and so I think my assessment of his abilities was correct.
I’m not sure what is wrong with Mr. Air Boxer but I never wanted to be near him again. What kind of person fake punches people in the face for fun after repeated requests from them to stop? What kind of person tackles another out of embarrassment in a public space? Socially unacceptable. None of my friends would act in such an asinine way. All of them are very respectful. I was shocked to have encountered such immature behavior like this. A friend had suggested that perhaps he was inebriated, which could potentially explain his irrational behavior. It’s very possible that he was and would actually help this situation make more sense for me. However, I’m unsure of that theory. Because some time after this event, we were around one another again because of a mutual friend and he did one of those “chest puffing” jerky moves with me to try and intimidate me, but then I stared him down and he backed off. I was like seriously? Last time didn’t teach you anything? I really think he legit might just have poor judgment or ego problems, drunk or not.
I remember feeling quite frustrated afterwards while heading into the city to meet up with my family. My clothes were dirtied from having rolled around in the grass with him, which I was not expecting to do, so I was not pleased. I would’ve brought a change of clothes if I knew I was going to participate in Park Fight Club that day. However, I was relieved my intuition alerted me of his hostile energy, which allowed me just enough time to defend myself from his tackle but ugh. Definitely not what I was expecting to happen that day.
In hindsight, I can understand the guy’s frustration, shame, and pain of constantly not having his way. But from my perspective, he deserved every part of it. Actions have consequences. If he didn’t want to be humiliated in such a way, he shouldn’t have harassed me. So I don’t feel bad at all with how things went down. Funnily enough, I recently learned that he left the party steaming and complaining that he couldn’t believe how violent I was, except no one really took his complaints seriously because they all knew he was the instigator lol. Oh well.
I know this situation sounds impressive, that I was able to fight off a dude, and indeed my friends were incredibly impressed with what they had witnessed that day based off of their feedback, but I think I got lucky. I believe if this were to happen with someone more experienced in fighting, idk if I could’ve handled it as well. This guy is only slightly taller than me, barely much bigger, and seeing how he was willing to publicly fake attack people, I took my chances that he might not know how to actually fight. If he were towering over me with years of MMA training or something, I really don’t believe I could’ve gotten out of that situation the victor. I’m not that big, strong, or experienced in martial arts. So, I basically used my best judgment to figure out what my chances of success were and went with it.
I would like to be clear that I don’t believe violence is the answer to all of my problems. In this particular case, I felt self defense was necessary. Ironically, the one exercise I absolutely hated ended up becoming what saved me. Muscle memory came out FAST and boy, was I grateful for having done all of those ground fighting exercises even when I really didn’t want to.
I’d also like to mention that I’m a lover, NOT a fighter. My natural state is to be loving and peaceful. But when push comes to shove, my inner fighter is more than happy to come out. Not a threat, just stating my boundaries. My stance these days continues to be — make love, not war. But if necessary, I will bring the arsenal to defend myself and those I care about.
That said, times are different now. I’m no longer that spring chicken willing to get down and dirty. I’ve aged and I can feel it in my body. Getting up and off the couch these days is a game of Russian roulette. Will I make it off in one piece or will I throw out my back and end up in the emergency room? Nobody knows.
If someone wants to take me to the ground again, I now have some conditions. It better be worth my time!
First, I’d like to ask them for their health insurance policy number in case of any damages I can file a claim against. If they don’t have insurance, kindly put assets up as collateral or piss off. Minimum assets requirement of $1milly plz. They better be liquid or no deal. Actually you know what? Forget the insurance. I’m not going to wait for them to deny my claim. Let’s go with assets as collateral.
Second, I’d like to be taken to lunch and dinner and to be compensated for my time. None of that McDonald’s or Burger King science-y processed food bullshirt though. I want fine dining with real authentic food prepared by top of the line chefs renown for their quality and exceptionalism. The most exquisite caviar, the freshest most delicious sashimi and highest grade wagyu imported same day directly from Japan and expertly handled, the whole works. I don’t drink alcohol so I can help save you some money there. I know fancy alcohol tends to be extremely expensive, so you’re welcome.
Better yet, just fly me straight to Japan, preferably Osaka, and back. Tokyo is much too crowded for my introverted taste. Minimum business class on a 5 star Asian airline, and take care of all the expenses for at least a two week stay, preferably longer, at a minimum 4 star hotel. I’d accept that as base compensation. If you’d like to add more on top of that, I’d gladly take it. Thank you in advance. I ain’t flying to East Asia for less than a 2-week stay. The flights to and from are way too long. Plus, those 2 weeks will just fly by! My old bones need luxury travel.
And when taken to the ground, hopefully one that is fully padded like those in a karate dojo, I’d literally just lay there and take a good nap or something. Might as well, I’m tired. My depression body ain’t that energetic and supple anymore. Please make sure the pads are cleaned though. I ain’t resting my face on someone’s feet and joocy booty sweats. Tell me a good and entertaining story while we are at it. Make me laugh, think, cry, reflect. Take me through all of the emotions. Tell me how I’m the most beautiful sack of potatoes you’ve ever seen. Everyone likes a compliment. I’d also appreciate a good massage. An appropriate one, perhaps a Thai massage, not some pervy bullshirt. It better be good and I better feel like a sack of mashed potatoes puréed to velvety perfection afterwards. And if you still insist on a good fight, I’d hire someone to fight on my behalf.
You can’t blame me though. As an aging adult, I got other issues to worry about, like brittle bones, sore muscles, perimenopause, and will I be able to get up off the couch today. I don’t even know if I’m getting enough calcium to fight off osteoporosis. Plus, it’s vital for me to pace myself as I will need to conserve my energy for more important things — like cosmic activities 🤭
At this point, unless you’re a part time financial advisor, part time travel agent, part time massage therapist, and part time dramatic performer with assets to boot, please don’t even think about taking me to the ground. I’m not interested. I got better bullshirt to do with my time like think up the stupidest and most unhinged content to write for my blog. I’m way too busy cracking myself up to have any time to fight.
Anyway, I thought this was an interesting story to share that y’all might find entertaining. If my friend hadn’t mentioned it I don’t know if I would’ve remembered to share it. I hope you enjoyed it! Oh, stories of the young, good times.
P.S. I finally figured out why I’ve been feeling so low energy lately. I haven’t been eating much meat and am iron deficient. So, I got a supplement and started downing some beef lol. Feeling much better now. Not 100% yet but getting there! Weeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!