hesitation or doubt anymore. Of course I want her now. It’s because she’s distancing herself. It’s because I can’t have her.
Not wanting to push her, I spent my time and energy on practice. Surly did the same. He had been able to track down Dee but he wasn’t willing to speak about it. All he would say was, “She doesn’t want me around.” I felt bad for the big guy. It had been back and forth for months between them and it was obviously getting to him. I just wished he wasn’t so closed off about the whole thing.
Not that I was much good for advice. I hardly had my own shit together.
So we practiced, the two of us. We practiced until our knuckles were bruised and our limbs numb with exhaustion. We worked out like it was our job - and it pretty much was. Surly still had his restaurant gig to bring in enough to cover food and rent. I kept doing odd jobs here and there - one of the bars where the girls had played hired me on as a part-time bouncer with a flexible schedule. I picked up some similar gigs with other local bands. It was nice to know that simply looking big and scary was enough to qualify one for work, dull as it was most nights. It paid the bills.
Finally one afternoon Lee approached us in the ring. Generally we just paid him our monthly gym dues and otherwise didn’t see him, but every once in a while he came to us with a fight offer. Sometimes it was for an exhibition type of fight - just to bring in an audience, get a guy some buzz, some notice, make a few videos to advertise the gym. Sometimes there was money involved - that was more “underground.” They were a little more dangerous.
That was the type of fight Lee offered us that afternoon - both of us, though not fighting each other. There would be four fights that night. Winners would get an “entertainment tip,” since legally we weren’t allowed to be paid for fighting.
Lee was the one who knew how to navigate it all. He pointed, we punched.
“What do you think?” I asked Surly in the locker room once we’d wrapped up. He looked as wilted as I felt. “So close to my fight with Tony…”
“Yeah,” he said, wiping his brow. We sat on the bench in front of our lockers, too worn out to get showered and changed just yet. “I know. I’ve got that thing….” He waved a limp hand in front of him, but I knew what he was referring to. He had an exhibition match coming up against a real pro - one whose promoter was looking for more fighters. The rest of the guys and I were all secretly jealous, but we were rooting for him just the same.
“I could use the cash,” I said. Bouncer money didn’t exactly have me eating steak at night, and I knew Surly was in the same boat.
Nevermind the fact that I just wanted to do it. Sparring with my friend wasn’t nearly as satisfying as going all-out in the ring against an opponent who wasn’t wearing protective gear, who I could really let loose on with fists and feet.
I saw my own thoughts echoed in the grim look on his face. “Fuck it,” he said, “I haven’t had a real fight in too long. What’s the worst that could happen?”
Break something. I didn’t put words to that concern. Either of us could also get hit by a cab when we crossed the street. We couldn’t focus on the worst case scenarios. If we did we wouldn’t have been fighters in the first place.
“I agree,” I said, “I’ll let Lee know before we leave.”
CHAPTER 8
Our fights were taking place only two days before the Mistresses of Mayhem played in the Battle of the Bands competition out in Brooklyn. Even if I got my ass kicked I figured I’d be recovered enough to still run security for them. All I had to do was look scary anyway, maybe throw an elbow or two. A face full of bruises could only help me in that job.
Surly told the girls about the fight - and I texted Riley - but the only responses to our invitations were a couple of “maybes.”
Not wanting to push her, I spent my time and energy on practice. Surly did the same. He had been able to track down Dee but he wasn’t willing to speak about it. All he would say was, “She doesn’t want me around.” I felt bad for the big guy. It had been back and forth for months between them and it was obviously getting to him. I just wished he wasn’t so closed off about the whole thing.
Not that I was much good for advice. I hardly had my own shit together.
So we practiced, the two of us. We practiced until our knuckles were bruised and our limbs numb with exhaustion. We worked out like it was our job - and it pretty much was. Surly still had his restaurant gig to bring in enough to cover food and rent. I kept doing odd jobs here and there - one of the bars where the girls had played hired me on as a part-time bouncer with a flexible schedule. I picked up some similar gigs with other local bands. It was nice to know that simply looking big and scary was enough to qualify one for work, dull as it was most nights. It paid the bills.
Finally one afternoon Lee approached us in the ring. Generally we just paid him our monthly gym dues and otherwise didn’t see him, but every once in a while he came to us with a fight offer. Sometimes it was for an exhibition type of fight - just to bring in an audience, get a guy some buzz, some notice, make a few videos to advertise the gym. Sometimes there was money involved - that was more “underground.” They were a little more dangerous.
That was the type of fight Lee offered us that afternoon - both of us, though not fighting each other. There would be four fights that night. Winners would get an “entertainment tip,” since legally we weren’t allowed to be paid for fighting.
Lee was the one who knew how to navigate it all. He pointed, we punched.
“What do you think?” I asked Surly in the locker room once we’d wrapped up. He looked as wilted as I felt. “So close to my fight with Tony…”
“Yeah,” he said, wiping his brow. We sat on the bench in front of our lockers, too worn out to get showered and changed just yet. “I know. I’ve got that thing….” He waved a limp hand in front of him, but I knew what he was referring to. He had an exhibition match coming up against a real pro - one whose promoter was looking for more fighters. The rest of the guys and I were all secretly jealous, but we were rooting for him just the same.
“I could use the cash,” I said. Bouncer money didn’t exactly have me eating steak at night, and I knew Surly was in the same boat.
Nevermind the fact that I just wanted to do it. Sparring with my friend wasn’t nearly as satisfying as going all-out in the ring against an opponent who wasn’t wearing protective gear, who I could really let loose on with fists and feet.
I saw my own thoughts echoed in the grim look on his face. “Fuck it,” he said, “I haven’t had a real fight in too long. What’s the worst that could happen?”
Break something. I didn’t put words to that concern. Either of us could also get hit by a cab when we crossed the street. We couldn’t focus on the worst case scenarios. If we did we wouldn’t have been fighters in the first place.
“I agree,” I said, “I’ll let Lee know before we leave.”
CHAPTER 8
Our fights were taking place only two days before the Mistresses of Mayhem played in the Battle of the Bands competition out in Brooklyn. Even if I got my ass kicked I figured I’d be recovered enough to still run security for them. All I had to do was look scary anyway, maybe throw an elbow or two. A face full of bruises could only help me in that job.
Surly told the girls about the fight - and I texted Riley - but the only responses to our invitations were a couple of “maybes.”
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