G.I. Joe

My friend ( we’ll call him, G.I. Joe) is on leave and he suggested that he show me some white belt moves to be unleashed on potential trail predators to settle my mom’s mind. He had me do each routine 5 consecutive times so that it would lock into my muscle memory and allow me to respond to attacks with deadly reflexes.

I laughed and said that a nice person is probably going to be approaching me to ask where the next shelter is or trail town when my protective reflexes kick in and result in my trail name becoming “Most Wanted”.

My friend had me go through the sequence of elbow, fist and knee motions slowly and my confidence was high because they seemed to be working on my trainer. A few times he said, “Ok, didn’t expect that!” as he clutched a knee or massaged his hand.

The scene in my kitchen two hours later, when I was prompting a second friend (we’ll call him, Drew Blood) by saying: “Ok now stand at my side and pretend to pull my hair,” and “come up behind and bear hug me,” was not as victorious.

I mostly ended up face down with my wrists pinned behind my back. I think it would be appropriate to conclude that I am a beltless individual at this point.