I was learning some basic self-defense techniques from my volatilely-tempered friend last night. You know, how to block a haymaker and follow it up by shoving someone out of the way, how to counter a knife attack to the gut. Stuff like that.
As I was driving home, reflecting on what I had learned, I realized that I am woefully unprepared for a fight. I don't really know any proper striking techniques, I know now two techniques to defend against two specific attacks, I cry easily. If we get into a bar fight, I am screwed.
I'm not even good at talking my way out of a situation. In the heat of a confrontation, I am more likely to attempt to make a joke than anything (and I use attempt as a weak attempt to describe a weak attempt at humor). Occasionally, it will be an insult that goes over the other person's head - like comparing them to Former President Millard Fillmore or something equally ridiculous.
So if I can't fight back, and I can't talk my way out of a situation, what is my defense? It dawned on me - I don't care bit about looking tough. I will gladly walk away from a confrontation and be called all types of horrible names (like "chicken" or "yellow-belly") because I don't care at all about maintaining machismo. Whether or not this is an actual defense mechanism is open to debate, but for the time being, it's what I'm going to go with.
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2 comments:
Marty McFly must be spinning in his grave.
He's more likely shaking in his home.
I am so, so, so ashamed of that joke (moreso than my awful Stephen Hawking one from the other day).
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