Not too long ago, Mike and I went to a wedding party for friends of ours. It was a local celebration at a bar for a wedding that took place a few states away. What could be better than celebrating a wonderful occasion with great friends?
A punching bag, apparently.
From across the bar, I watched Mike and a few of the guys taking turns punching the crap out of a mechanical punching bag.
“This is not going to end well,” I said.
“Someone is going to get hurt,” I said.
There are some people who will tell you I’m a little competitive.
And, I will concede that is probably true. OK, it is. It’s true.
As evidenced by later in the evening when the girls started taking turns punching the mechanical punching bag which would give you a score of how hard you hit. Mike was in the lead for the guys.
Now is when I tell you I had never hit anything with my fist, ever in my life. I didn’t even really know how to make a fist. I knew there was some trick to not tucking your thumb so it wouldn’t break, but that’s as far as my knowledge went.
After a couple rounds, I was solidly in second place and was actually OK with that. I now know which of my friends should stay to fight and which should run for help if we are ever in a dark-alley fight. I’m not messing with Anne. And Shab may be small, but she is mighty.
So second place. I could live with that. It was respectable enough. I had lost a few games of dart earlier in the evening, but we kept it close. Heck I hadn’t even thrown darts for 9 or so years. (You see how I slipped that in? I can’t help myself.)
We were saying our goodbyes when another friend offered me one last swing. Oh, yes, we got to pay to punch the bag. Our evening net someone a pretty penny at a dollar a hit.
“Sure,” I said, wanting one more time to see how I would score.
You know how this ends, right?
Yep, I thought I broke my wrist for a moment. Then by the time we actually left, I thought it was more of a sprain. It was sore for a few days but ended up feeling completely fine after a week or so.
But my fingers? Ugh. I mashed my knuckles good. Three of my fingers ache pretty much all the time. I’m hoping whatever damage I did isn’t permanent because hurting my hand on a stupid punching bag would be something only an idiot would do.
I was right though from the very beginning. Someone was going to get hurt, I just didn’t know it would be me.