Dames bond by talking. Guys bond by doing stuff. Quickest way to make a friend, get in a fair barfight. Gotta be one on one, give as good as you get. It helps if you get popped in the face only once or twice. Too many smacks in the face, the other guy's trying to ruin your life. Too few, he's saying you're a sissy, you can't take getting hit in the face.
I wasn't great in Golden Gloves, but I'm still better than your average slob, and I know how to take a punch. Half of it is in your head. It's not as bad as you think. You gotta take a few shots first, find out it's not the end of the world. Also helps to get shot. Getting shot hurts almost as bad as heartbreak, and next to that, a punch is nothing.
So, I found myself out back throwing fists at a guy half a foot shorter than me, his boys cheering him on, me trying not to break him in the first two minutes. I dropped my left hand a second to take a punch, see what I was up against. His right hook came in, and my eyes burst into sparkles. Even tensing my stomach, I really felt it. I mighta been in over my head.
He wasn't no slob, tell you that much. I had a couple good pops, but he was getting in and treating me like I came home late on a school night. I kept trying to jab at him, play keep away, but I was kind of loaded, he was just too quick.
We'd been going for what felt like two hours, was probably just ten minutes, when he flashed his left jab. I stepped left, into his right hook again. Crumpled like a house of cards.
They helped me up. I apologized for taking his seat, took a shot, spit some blood into my empty shot glass before slamming it on the bar. He apologized for kicking my butt. Told me his name was Mickey, and he won Golden Gloves once, a long time ago.
He also drank me under the table.
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