With Only seconds left to get there I raced as quickly as I could pushing myself further with every ounce of energy I could muster. I didn't know if I had enough time, but not trying to make it wasn't an option. I wanted to be here and I wanted it bad enough to fight for it...
By "fight for it," I mean in the most literal way possible, as in the Biannual Punch Dance Competition. The goal is to punch the air as hard and gracefully as possible, expressing my inner rage and shame in the most expressive and profound way possible. The deadline for sign-ups was moments away, but I was crushing through crowds of onlookers on my way to the local Center for Performance and Arts. The crushing through people was almost as rewarding as the punch dance itself.
ReplyDeleteThank you.
ReplyDeleteI love crushing through people.. so very much. I couldn't resist the urge to practice punch-dancing as I crushed through the crowd. I began swinging wildly at anyone and everyone in my path... men, women... most of the kids would require that I crouch down to reach them, so I didnt bother with them lest they slow my progress. Unfortunately, my practice wasn't going over too well with the masses. One little old lady whom I'd taken a swing at and missed her face but knocked her hat off, chased me through the crowd, clobbering me with her handbag. Undeterred, I crushed on, swinging at all in my path, when, before I could stop myself, a gigantic behemoth in a wife-beater caught the full brunt of my fury. his already low brow knit into a furious scowl and his near toothless mouth curled into a grimace. He reached out a large, hairy fist, seizing my by the throat and lifted me completely off the ground! I flailed wildly in his grasp. I must get to the punch dance sign-ups before they closed!
ReplyDeleteYes, I know, the punch dance competition was still at least a mile away, and even at the competition itself, the goal was to gracefully flail through the air, but as I got into it, I couldn't resist actually punching people. Now I was paying the price. I knew the behemoth would pummel me (hmm, for some reason, this was oddly familiar), but I didn't want to further enrage him, so I pretended I didn't notice his vice-like grip on my throat and continued dancing with my eyes closed. One "accidental" poke to his eye and I was free. He recovered quickly, so I sprinted away and continued to dance, punching my way through the crowd--only this time, carefully avoiding behemoths and listening for the angry, sweaty, wheezing giant behind me.
ReplyDeleteThere it was, much to my horror; the angry wheezing, coming up fast behind me. I turned around and saw that it was not just the hillbilly in the wife-beater coming up behind me, but numerous others as well. I saw the little old lady who'd been clobbering me with her purse. She looked enraged and was swinging her purse wildly as she came up from behind the hillbilly. Numerous others whom I'd punched in my ruthless determination were in hot pursuit.
ReplyDeleteThe angry mob was furiously crushing toward me! I turned and sprinted with every ounce of strength that I could muster! I was certain I could feel their hot breath steaming up the back of my head! My lungs were beginning to burn as I imagined the furious horde closing in behind me! I was too terrified to even turn to see how close they were as I pushed myself forward!
I’d almost forgotten what I had originally set out for, when, in the distance, I could see the banner waving gently in the breeze: ‘Punch-Dance Sign-Ups Today’. I’d nearly made it! Now if I could just stay out of reach of the raging horde behind me.
With the last quarter of an ounce of strength I had left, I reached the sign-up desk . Falling breathlessly on my face, I crawled the last two feet and climbed, gasping, up the side of the desk.
“Help!” I wheezed painfully. “They’re… gasp.... after… Wheeeeeze……me!!”
The blue-haired old lady in the horn-rimmed glasses looked down at me.
“Who’s after you, sonny?” She pushed her glasses up on her long, pointy nose.
I pointed behind me. “Them!”
But when I looked, there was no one there. The hillbilly, the old lady with the purse.. they were all gone. Somehow, an entire raging mob had simply vanished!
Well, without the raging throng of outraged punch-dance-to-the-face recipients, I was free to enter the contest. I turned to the woman: "Well, uh... they were there but never mind. I'd like to join the punch-dance competition!"
ReplyDelete"I'm sorry, sir, but the Biannual Punch Dance Competition deadline was 2 minutes ago. Maybe two years from now, you can try again."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing! All the work and sacrifice, alone in my room practicing the punch dance, only to be turned away at the door! I couldn't accept this. If I couldn't enter the punch dance competion, I would perform for the crowd. I would do the purest, most raging and insane punch dance the crowd could or would ever see, raging hordes be damned!
But for now, I really had to pee... most ugently I might add. I searched desperately for the reassuring little man symbol that signified that relief was within reach. I looked left.. There was nothing but a ‘yield’ sign, I looked right… for a second I thought I saw it, but, to my utter dismay, it turned out to be a 'school crossing sign'... but then, behind the old lady and the flapping banner, was a large building where I spotted an ‘enter’ sign and a sign that read ‘employees only’, but still no welcoming little man sign. In desperation, I reasoned that maybe the ‘employees only sign’ might lead to a restroom and salvation. I sprinted toward it and threw wide the door. Again to my distress, it was nothing but a storage room, piled high with boxes. I raced haphazardly through the maze of boxes, my bladder aching for relief. Minutes felt like hours as I fumbled my way through the labyrinth before me.. And then I saw it! It seemed to sing to me as a choir of angels! To my utter joy the little man sign that meant the restroom was only steps away!
ReplyDeleteWith Only seconds left to get there I raced as quickly as I could; pushing myself further with every ounce of energy I could muster. I didn't know if I had enough time, but not trying to make it wasn't an option. I wanted to be here and I wanted it bad enough to fight for it...
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ReplyDeleteAs I fought the bathroom door open, I saw something that I was not willing to fight... the behemoth. I wondered where he went. Apparently, he had to go to the bathroom. I thought about killing myself at that moment, as I had no punch dance and no urinal. My dreams were dead. But, I thought, if I were to put as much effort into crashing the punch-dance competition, which was in just ten minutes, as I put into not wetting my pants, perhaps I could still punch my way to glory! I didn't need the trophy or the the perfect score from the judges, which I take for granted... it was all about the purity of the art of the punch-dance. I would not be killing myself anytime soon!
ReplyDeleteI forgot about my aching bladder and sprinted back to the dance floor. Nothing and nobody was going to stop me from getting a taste of the glory! I started dancing even before I got past the entrance because the guy at the registration desk tried to stop me. Kablow! He was down for the count. That put a huge smile on my face as I plowed through each contestant, flailing and jumping for joy between punches. By the time I was finished, I knew I was the winner. Pure joy filled me whole being! It was a warmth like nothing I had felt before--especially in the groin area. Just then I realized that it was coming from the release of my bursting bladder. I was OUT OF TIME.
ReplyDeleteThe crowd and the other dancers stared at me in awe and envy, mouths agape, mesmerized at my inimitable talent. It was then that I noticed the costumes of the other contestants: leotards, flamenco dresses, spandex pants, frilly sleeves, ballroom-gowns, sequins and not a single person, other than me, wearing headgear, leg-warmers or spandex singlet like a wrestler. Boy was my face red, my head small and my butt big... or at least my face was red. Those other two, not so much.
ReplyDeleteThen I turned my attention to the sign. It read:
Dance Competition
Punch and Cookies Served
My face got even redder. This was not a punch-dance competition; it was a dance, where punch would be served! I don't even know why I am telling this story, as I am absolutely mortified. What was I thinking? At least I got to punch people. Also, my spandex outfit and leg warmer hid the pee pretty well, which is good!
Shiny black spandex and thick, absorbent leg-warmers are a must if you're going to dance with a full bladder.
ReplyDeleteOh well, at least I got to awe and amaze them with my inimitable talent.
I helped myself to some punch and cookies.
Mmmmmmmm.... snickerdoodles and Hawaiian punch.