Fight Club

Last night, I convinced my friend to teach me boxing.  I thought it would be more fun than going to the gym or walking hills in 3 inch heels (which counts as exercise, if you are wondering).  It likely didn’t bode well for the adventure since we developed the plan in a Chinese bar/restaurant that has free ping pong.  And his only boxing gloves were a pair of Lou Ferrigno look a likes from the Incredible Hulk. 

Well, I like to take a bad idea and follow it to its illogical conclusion.  I have an interview today, so what could possibly go wrong?  Oh yeah, the black eye.  How to explain that to the investment bank with whom I am interviewing shortly.  Thank God for L’oreal, because I am worth it.  Or it can cover up my black eye or whatever.

Full disclosure, I am all talk, I have never been in a fight in my life.  I once tried to intervene between my friends Alison and Shannon in high school, but I just wound up with some ramen on my head while they beat the crap out of each other over some guy.  Shannon was a fighter, but Alison was pretty mellow, so I felt like I should be the peace maker.  They fought anyway and I just had to wash my hair.  I think we all stole some beer and watched Pink Floyd’s The Wall after anyway.  Ungrateful friends, I tell you. 

So my friend offers to teach me to fight.  I am wearing heels, fake pearls and Incredible Hulk gloves.  I start cracking up immediately and he hits me.  WTF?  He hit me!  Wait, I asked him to teach me to box, I guess he has to hit me.  That is how the game is played, apparently.  One must hit and be hit in boxing.  I do not like this idea, it seems barbaric. Can’t I just kick his ass at Trivial Pursuit because I know who Mahmoud Amidinajad is? 

I start getting pissed, I take off my earrings, my pearls, my heels and get into it.  Then the Violent Femmes come on and we are boxing hard.  I start dancing and miss a block to a direct hit to my left eye.  Damn music!  Stop being so intoxicating!  So I have this little black eye problem.  And an interview with an investment bank.  At least I have a few suits, maybe I can wear my glasses to hide the black eye, I don’t know. 

All I know is that I am unsuitable for any job other than the VP of HR for the Chezeburger Network!!!!  Yes!   I know!!!  I must be head of HR over Fail Blog, Lol Cats, Engrish, Failbooking, etc.  I loooooooooove this company and I am a total weirdo yet incredibly good with language and law and therefore perfect for the role.  I am going to stand outside their offices and BEG to be their HR person.  I will submit my own wonky lol cats, I will fall over railings and post them on fail blog, I will get into fights with Lou Ferrigno and put it all on line although he is likely 80 by now and I should be able to kick his ass but know I can’t.  Damn, I am losing the war for feminism.  OK, put gloves back on, go outside, wait my the school bus and start sucker punching 6 year olds,  They had it coming.