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On my tour o' dojos across country it wasn't all... normal.
The big black lettered all caps sign on the front door of the dojo screaming: NO REFUNDS! was a tad bit jolting and unusual, bemused but undaunted I stepped inside. I found myself in a large lobby full of trophies. Trophies everywhere, many larger than me; for a split second I thought I had wandered into a trophy shop. Then I spotted two women in a glassed room practicing a bo kata. A bo kata I was familiar with. A bo kata being executed weirdly, like women posing for baton twirling photos; it was like watching an accident happening in slow motion.
As I stood entranced by the weird and pointless bo flourishes a young man came round the corner and stopped, obviously surprised by my presence, "What do you want?"
"Ummm," I was equally surprised at him. Usually in dojos people wear gi or at least athletic type clothing. He was wearing ratty jeans and a t-shirt that was split from the underarms down to the waistband. "I'm visiting the area and wanted to pick up a schedule and see what kind of classes you offer."
"Oh. Well the owner took off on his bike. I don't know- but you can go in there," he pointed to the bo staff room, "And ask the pretty one about classes." At this he turned and disappeared around the corner. I stood there looking through the glass wall pondering which girl was "the pretty one" for a second but on hearing an adult male's voice yelling at what had to be young children doing bag work from around the corner to, "Stop doing it wrong!" I decided to slip out.
That's when I heard the first young man's voice shouting, "Hey, there's an old lady out front that wants to know something."
I was smiling broadly when "the owner" came round the corner. He had the grace to be taken aback at my obvious and unfortunate lack of deafness. I was taken aback by his ratty non gi clothing. He and his younger worker looked like every photo I've ever seen of meth lab arrestees.
He hung his head and said, "I'm sorry about him."
"No problem, I was just looking for a schedule- I'm going to go ahead and go."
"No, wait a minute, I can answer your questions." I froze on the spot. It's not everyday that you meet a dojo owner/lead instructor in ratty jeans and a t-shirt too small for his gut who also happens to have no teeth. Nor is it everyday that said man has a nervous habit of licking his lips coupled with the the habit of talking to your chest. For a split second I thought perhaps I had wandered out errand-running naked and felt compelled to look down too. Nope, everything normal... and covered. Talking with him was like watching window wipers: look at breasts, lick lips, remember to look up for a split second before, looking again at breasts, licking lips, remember to stop, rinse and repeat.
This was getting funnier by the second. I scrambled for a question, "So what kind of martial arts do you teach here?" He named a jujitsu system I'd never heard of; I had to ask him to repeat the name a couple of times, finally I admitted that I'd never heard of that type of jujitsu.
"Oh, well, that's the name of our instructor so we call it that type of jujitsu." Immediately I thought of Rex Kwon Do and started looking around to see if I was actually on a movie set. "Yeah, he continued, as if I had responded, "We like our girls to start jujitsu young, fourteen at the oldest because if you don't get between their legs while they are young, they just won't let you."
Gee, I wonder why.
.
On my tour o' dojos across country it wasn't all... normal.
The big black lettered all caps sign on the front door of the dojo screaming: NO REFUNDS! was a tad bit jolting and unusual, bemused but undaunted I stepped inside. I found myself in a large lobby full of trophies. Trophies everywhere, many larger than me; for a split second I thought I had wandered into a trophy shop. Then I spotted two women in a glassed room practicing a bo kata. A bo kata I was familiar with. A bo kata being executed weirdly, like women posing for baton twirling photos; it was like watching an accident happening in slow motion.
As I stood entranced by the weird and pointless bo flourishes a young man came round the corner and stopped, obviously surprised by my presence, "What do you want?"
"Ummm," I was equally surprised at him. Usually in dojos people wear gi or at least athletic type clothing. He was wearing ratty jeans and a t-shirt that was split from the underarms down to the waistband. "I'm visiting the area and wanted to pick up a schedule and see what kind of classes you offer."
"Oh. Well the owner took off on his bike. I don't know- but you can go in there," he pointed to the bo staff room, "And ask the pretty one about classes." At this he turned and disappeared around the corner. I stood there looking through the glass wall pondering which girl was "the pretty one" for a second but on hearing an adult male's voice yelling at what had to be young children doing bag work from around the corner to, "Stop doing it wrong!" I decided to slip out.
That's when I heard the first young man's voice shouting, "Hey, there's an old lady out front that wants to know something."
I was smiling broadly when "the owner" came round the corner. He had the grace to be taken aback at my obvious and unfortunate lack of deafness. I was taken aback by his ratty non gi clothing. He and his younger worker looked like every photo I've ever seen of meth lab arrestees.
He hung his head and said, "I'm sorry about him."
"No problem, I was just looking for a schedule- I'm going to go ahead and go."
"No, wait a minute, I can answer your questions." I froze on the spot. It's not everyday that you meet a dojo owner/lead instructor in ratty jeans and a t-shirt too small for his gut who also happens to have no teeth. Nor is it everyday that said man has a nervous habit of licking his lips coupled with the the habit of talking to your chest. For a split second I thought perhaps I had wandered out errand-running naked and felt compelled to look down too. Nope, everything normal... and covered. Talking with him was like watching window wipers: look at breasts, lick lips, remember to look up for a split second before, looking again at breasts, licking lips, remember to stop, rinse and repeat.
This was getting funnier by the second. I scrambled for a question, "So what kind of martial arts do you teach here?" He named a jujitsu system I'd never heard of; I had to ask him to repeat the name a couple of times, finally I admitted that I'd never heard of that type of jujitsu.
"Oh, well, that's the name of our instructor so we call it that type of jujitsu." Immediately I thought of Rex Kwon Do and started looking around to see if I was actually on a movie set. "Yeah, he continued, as if I had responded, "We like our girls to start jujitsu young, fourteen at the oldest because if you don't get between their legs while they are young, they just won't let you."
Gee, I wonder why.
.
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1 comment:
There needs to be some type of way to report places like that. How terribly skeezy. Makes me appreciate my tae kwon do school and its high standards that much more.
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