I'm in a karate studio. Kids are playing a board game on the floor. It has lots of pieces that appear to be little soldiers. They are separated into four groups by color: blue, green, brown and black. I step over the playing area to get to the main part of the dojo.
I'm with the other students, sitting against the wall. We watch as an instructor demos a move: block, punch, take-down. He tells us to pair off and practice the move. The boy next to me walks away quickly to find another boy. I'm left with a lot of girls / women to choose to practice with. Many of them don't seem interested in working with me. Finally one agrees. She has an unusual outfit on. It's a purple / lavender turtleneck top with a jewel-encrusted oval hole at her throat. We face each other. She throws a punch. I block it, but I don't remember the rest of the move. Then I throw a punch. She doesn't remember either. But it's too late – the practice session is over.
As folks mill about, an instructor announces graduation. He has a stack of several plastic-bagged uniforms. He pulls a paper from one and reads my name! I come forward. He puts a yellow cap on my head, and people clap. I've been here only a short time, but I came from another school.
I transfer the stuff from the plastic bag into my black back pack, which is up against the wall we were sitting against. Now the uniform is dark blue, not yellow. I put it on. It's more like a gown, and it has a rigid piece of plastic that covers my throat. I guess it's meant to protect me. Some students recognize me and congratulate me. One says that they won't take it easy on me anymore. I say that that's a good thing because I'll learn more if I get punched for real.
Saturday, February 25, 2017
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