Distraction and Long Arms

On my way to the gym on Monday, I ran into African Paul.  I met him earlier in the summer, and he told me he practices martial arts.  When he learned that I box, he said he would be interested in learning some moves.  I immediately put him in the acquaintance zone and gave him my number.  Too late I realized that he was looking for a girlfriend.  I got busy, and didn't have time to return his incessant phone calls.  African Paul followed me to the field house, claiming that he wanted to observe what goes on in the gym. 

I sparred with Kenny, who told me beforehand, "I'ma go hard on your ass, Hillari, because you have a fight coming up."  I took some hard side and belly shots from him.  I mustered up energy during our last round to answer his punches as powerfully as I could. 

A tall, very dark complexioned young man walked in the gym and asked Alan, "Do you remember me?"  "So many guys come in here, I don't know," Alan said, trying to place his face.  "I got my eye hurt in here. . .remember?" the young man said.  "I remember you," I said.  It was Deo, whose eye socket was cracked by Leon a few years ago during sparring.  Deo informed us that he had also had a detached retina from that ordeal, but thankfully, doctors were able to correct it. 

Against my gut feelings, I let African Paul walk me home instead of taking a ride from Alan.  I grew annoyed as he was a bit too touchy-feely for my taste.  Then he ran into a bunch of sketchy looking guys whom he called friends, and gave the impression that he and I were an item.  "Why haven't you dated in awhile?" he asked.  "Because I'm busy," I answered, which is honestly part of the truth.  African Paul droned on about his being a recent business school grad and his trying to get an internship.  He talked about his male roommates, who also sounded like they participate in some bogus activities.  African Paul claimed that he was "saved" and did not do what they do.  Then he said something that never fails to raise a red flag for me.

He asked me if I had been married before and I answered, "Marriage is not a priority to me these days," which has been true for some time.  "When we get married, we'll move into a bigger place," he smiled.  We ain't gone on one date, and we never will.  I hate when guys won't take hints there's no chance for a relationship, and think they're going to be the exception in some woman's life.  The fact that he broke up with an ex-girlfriend only a few months before, and admitted that he's still in touch with her was also a factor in my decision.  He angled to get invited up to my apartment, but I left him on the other side of the security gate. 

"So what happened to the African guy?" Alan asked me yesterday when we were back in the gym.  I told about the guy being thirsty -- that is, seemingly desperate to get into another relationship before recovering from the last one, and the marriage thing.  "Wow, that guy was moving fast!" Kenny commented. 

Amy sparred one round with her sister Sarah, then it was my turn in the ring.  Amazingly, I finally got around Sarah's long arms.  I got in a lot of hooks and dead-on lefts and rights.  But Sarah did not back down.  She had me against the ropes with flurries and cracks to my eyes and mid-section.  Alan was off-sides saying, "Beautiful!  Nice!" and giving out loads of instructions.  Sarah and I participated in three rounds of a good-natured war, engaging in one intense exchange of punches after another.  I'm still trying to figure out where my energy came from.

Jacob said, "That was the fight of the night," after it was over.  Sarah and I both had to sit down for awhile to catch our breaths.  "See?  You thought you couldn't do three rounds today, and you did," Alan said to me.  He told both Sarah and I, "That's the best I've ever seen you two spar."