Deja Vu

Yesterday I didn't do squat. After a long day of semi-productive work, I came back to the hotel, and right into bed...I knew I had to wake up super early as it's a 2 hour drive to the airport...in D.C. traffic. Which could mean 6 hours...

So I make it to the airport in record time! The airline even offered me standby on an earlier flight, which I gladly accepted as a reward for not staying up late and getting my ass out of bed early. Upon boarding my flight a weird sensation of deja vu ensued.
Let's run through the numbers:

1. Same aircraft type as Monday.
2. Same exact aisle seat as Monday.
3. Same exact chair compadre as Monday.

I slightly lied, it wasn't the same woman as last time, but rather another magically gigantic derriere. This time bigger. MUCH BIGGER. I approached my chair. I stuffed my bag into the overhead and looked at the dire seating arrangement. Below me sat a mid forties, African American female of mammoth proportions. In our seating section were two seats, hers was the window, mine was the aisle. I couldn't actually see the center armrest. I was certain her ass crack had swallowed it. I wasn't at all surprised. Had it been one of those Twiggy thin models, I would have been totally amazed.

I contemplated how I was going to tell her the 1/8th of my seat left was mine and I would have to somehow squeeze in. I casually ask her for my seat belt. No kidding, not even exaggerating the next bit. She reaches down with her right arm and lifts up her ginormous right ass cheek and asks for me to fish that thing out. As my breakfast came up to my throat I simultaneously belched out a feeble, "Ok." I wasn't sure which hand I should use to reach in. BJJ and most martial arts tell you to never extend an arm and I was about to do just that. I also had to pick a sacrificial hand. My left had served me well batting off flies, holding shields, speed reloading my pistols and general slapping people around. My right hand was my power hand. I write with that thing, poke people in the eyes and I'm damn good with chopsticks with it. So I choose the left hand, knowing if I lose it, my new nick name would be lefty. I reach quickly into the bear trap, it was dark, humid and oddly warm in there. I rummaged around quickly. Keep in mind my posture was also poor as I was bent over; my face about 2.5 inches from her right boob.

I find my seat belt and quickly yank that thing from it's fate. I couldn't imagine being that poor seat belt end, trapped under that butt cheek. eww.

I squeeze into my 1/8th of a seat. Snap my seatbelt in. She relaxes a bit and lets the mass expand. It's crushing me from the left. I now find my self in side mount, while sitting on an airplane! This is what fighting Rickson must be like. Simultaneously surrounded on all sides, the more you squirm the worse it gets.

We take off and I endure.

2.5 hours later it's time to land and I can no longer feel anything below my seat belt, or my left side. I think I may have had a partial stroke. The only remaining fully operational bit of me working was my right earlobe and most of my shooting hand.

We land. As soon as the seatbelt light goes out, I reach with my only good hand and pop that thing loose. 40000 lbs of side ways pressure on my left, crushing me into my seatbelt and right hand armrest. Once the seatbelt buckle pops, I launch! A nice loud pop and her flubber blasted me into the aisle. Stumbling because I can't feel my legs, I manage to catch myself by clawing the nearest old lady's face and dragging myself up. Wobbly I stand. I'm alive! Hell yeah! I made it! The blood rushed back to the left side of my face and brain and my vision was restored! Woohoo! Time to get the heck out of here.

I get home, get a hair cut and get ready for wrestling practice. One doesn't miss out when a two time Olympic wrestler is offering volumes of knowledge.

So here's today's workout:

1. We spend two hours on perfecting double and single leg take downs. Very very very very very cool stuff. He mixes in MMA and BJJ concepts so that we can connect the dots to our other disciplines.
2. Tire change.

Tire change? Yes I had a left rear tire explode on the way home. Tired, nasty, thirst and sweaty I had to change out a tire. Of course, I had to push the pace. I changed that thing FAST :)

Mark!