For years nobody ever understood what it was I did for a living. I used to be a Drum and Bass DJ. That meant for most people, if anybody was getting married, I was the first person they’d call to ask if I would play at their wedding, or at the reception. For those of you who don’t know, it’s about the equivalent of asking your local death metal band to play the lobby of a swanky hotel, because the guy in the cubicle next to you, is a musician. Now, I teach at 10th Planet Jiu Jitsu Van Nuys for a living. Instead of being asked to DJ bar mitzfas, now I get the drunk chick at parties asking me “You do Jiu Jitsu? That’s soooo coool, I’d like to tone up for summer, can you teach me? Please be my personal trainer.”
I’m with my uncle today visiting my sick grandmother at her home. My uncle is one of my biggest supporters. He has watched me coach, and he’s been to tournaments with me, but I’m not exactly sure he has much of idea of what I do. He’s always trying to help, bless his heart, but seems to always miss the mark.
So, My uncle was wearing a Pacquiao vs Clottey shirt that he’d gotten from a friend of his. One of the Filipino nurses commented on his shirt. I cringed thinking about the next part. My uncle thought she was talking about me, and bragged to the cute nurse, that just like Manny Pacquiao, that I’m an awesome kickboxing fighter trainer. To his credit, I do coach mma, but only the grappling portion. He then made some reference to me training gladiators. It’s too bad he didn’t say something about human cock fighting, that would have been good. Everybody kind of looked at him weird. Then, in desperation he grabbed my head, and gave me a noogie. Everybody was even more puzzled now. I felt like the teenage girl who’s dad bursts in to the sleepover, with a wig, and a guitar, trying to be a part of the gang.
I said “No, she’s talking about, Pacquiao, Manny Pacquiao. You know the boxer? She’s talking about your shirt.” The nurse agreed and we both gestured towards his shirt.
“Oh yeah? Cool, that’s cool.” He said. You know one of those
“sure sure, whatever you say” things you do when you don’t understand what some foreigner is saying, and you want to just get out of the situation, as soon as possible. It was like that, except everybody was speaking English.
“Pacquiao isn’t a kickboxer, he’s a boxer. Pretty much one of the best on the planet. You don’t know him? Really?” I said, in disbelief. I know my uncle used to be a huge Mohammed Ali and boxing fan in his day.
“Oh? The only kickboxer I know is you. hahahah” My uncle said, while punching me playfully, yet a bit nervously, in the stomach.
What was odd is, I’m pretty sure he knows who Pac-Man is, and I’m pretty sure he has a better understanding of what I do, as well. However, at that specific moment, for some reason, it must have, just all went out the window. Or maybe he was just trying to make me look good in front of cute nurses, and it took a nose dive. Or maybe, just maybe, in his own ironic, genius way, he was trolling me. You know, like he was imitating a bad romantic comedy movie, like the Bridgette Jones diary or something. Where he was playing the role of the wacky, off beat family member that embarrasses the hopelessly single character, in front of the sexy female. I’m guessing not, it was probably him just being a bit lost.
I want to know what your family thinks about what you do when you tell them, “I do 10th Planet Jiu Jitsu.” or whatever martial art you do. Somebody has to have another awesome story or two.
I’ve seen this picture floating around the nets. I love it, I think it’s pretty spot on.