Most of you have read that
Sophie and I are training with my first martial arts instructors, Eric Pence and his wife Stephanie. I started up with Eric in 1992Steph was a childhood friend and she told me about this kickboxing class, and dragged me along. Luckily, nobody told me that athletically challenged, scrawny smokers werent supposed to be able to kickbox.
I left Lawrence for many years, and studied many different styles during that time, but Ive always trained with Eric and Steph whenever Im in town. They are mentors and good friends; on top of that, their system is fucking sweet. When I teach, I teach AMK.
Tuesday during and after working out, we were telling stories that illustrate for me how strange and oblique the circles we humans move in are; each of these stories involves someone *almost* getting railed on, but not quite reaping what Steph refers to as the rain of fire, or what I call a trauma-induced paradigm shift.
First, I told a story where a total stranger -- uninvited -- grabbed
Sophie and gave her a hug without permission. In a store. At the time, I was standing a few feet away in another aisle, and was unable to see it. Had I seen it? I think he probably would have gotten an owie. Most likely (because I'm sweet and nice) a sudden, but singular and impermanent owie, coupled with a brief but concise explanation that he had just Crossed A Bad Boundary.
Anyway, you can imagine how you might have reacted. How strange and surreal is it when some man just disregards all flavors of social propriety and grabs you? What do you do? Some of you would have barked at him, others might have chewed him out until he felt six inches tall. I'm not particularly good at either of those, so I would have dissuaded him otherwise.
Sophie, being a very sweet person, laughed it off and bailed on the whole creepy scene, because she is just nice like that.
Then, later, we were telling stories about this mutual friend of ours, and in particular one time that when she was about 19 or so, and she was followed to Karate class by some random sketchy guy in his 40s, who apparently intended to follow her on inside. Fortunately for his medical insurance payments, he balked at the sight of the 5'10" 220 lb. dude who answered the door, and did not come in to the room where there were three over-protective black belts and a special forces commando hanging out. At the time, nobody realized that he was a likely predator:
GROUP Who was your friend, the older guy?
YOUNG WOMAN The creepy guy? I don't know, he followed me here.
GROUP !!!!!!1one
How close to a world of hurt was that guy? I mean, he walked up and
knocked on the door of his own private trauma and probably only peripherally comprehended what hed walked away from.
Then I told a story about this time when I was living in San Francisco, and this random Jamaican dude followed one of my female roommates into our apartment. No one knew this guy, he
just fucking walked in to our house.
(Yes, this is the point where all the Texans pat their near-at-hand firearm and remind themselves that Shit Aint Like That Round Here)
He just walked in, and my poor roomie was so frightened, she didn't stop him. Again, I wasn't there. I think I was over at my friends house or something. Now, mind you, there were four women and a
child living there. Luckily for dude (or for me, or both) our other male roommate was there and stepped up with a diplomatic swerve, chatted with this clearly crazy guy, smoked weed with him, and convinced him to leave. But again, that was close. Im sure that I wouldnt have been so crafty and suave as my roomie was.
So all of those stories reflected through my mind Tuesday night; this common theme that each of the "bad guys" in those scenarios edged right up against this tangenital orbit of potential violence, but never got some. It makes me wonder how some people choose to put the orbits of their lives into risk; and not for a cause, or in service to anything other than their egos, but just because they are creepy and predatory and see young women as soft targets.
I have a hard time feeling sorry for whichever day their instincts lead them one step to far. I guess Im glad its not me that has to do it, but on the other hand, I am the nice one. I might be somebody's lucky break.