Fight Club, Part 3 of 4
This entry is continued from: Fight Club, Part 2 of 4
I came around on the floor with the referee standing over me and asking if I was okay. When I couldn’t answer him right away, he declared the fight over and my opponent the winner. Just when I got him where I wanted him.
My work friend helped me up and said, “You’re not bad for a fag.”
He leaned me up against an old wooden beam and gave me the once over. I decided to take his comment as a ringing declaration of approval and only hoped he would tell everyone in the office how awesome I am.
My opponent came over to make sure I was okay and said I, “wasn’t bad for a newbie.” I told him, “I get that a lot.” He laughed and walked away.
And there you have it, from two people I “wasn’t bad for a…”
I grabbed a beer from the cooler and watched a few more fights before I walked back out to my car and drove home with the Fight Club score playing over my car’s stereo.
“What the hell happened to you?” was the first thing I heard when I walked through the door back home.
Howie came out of the bedroom and his face immediately dropped.
I would have to go into the bathroom and actually examine my face before I saw that I had a fairly serious black eye forming.
I told him the story, but left out the part about how I got my ass handed to me, and reiterated the part about being a badass. I admit, I was sort of hoping he would think the whole thing was really hot, but he was instead sort of horrified and got me some ice.
I’m not even going to lie to you folks, I enjoyed the experience and was already wondering when the next fight club was.