boots

He was bleeding. I haven’t seen him since.

Where did you go, Eric Hodel?

You know, boots is kinda like that song These boots are Made for Walking, only I would say boots seems to do more stomping than walking and that’s not necessarily a bad thing. A woman who can take up for herself is a fearful and wondrous thing to behold.

Laura took me with to her Judo class, and showed me a couple things. Later I was practicing arm locks with another guy. He pulled, I followed and my eyebrow came down smack on the back of his head. After about a second it seemed like my eyebrow was spitting blood (well, which it was).

So Laura took me to Virgina Mason to get stitches. She had a rather intense desire to watch the doctor sew me up so she stood over me during the stitching and even got some stitching tips.

As we were leaving she advised me of every obstacle and curb I could possibly trip over or run into because I had an ice pack over one eye.

A fly girl is a girl who wants you to see her name her game and her ability…

I know zip zero zilch about flygirl except that she has good taste in art and films. That’s a good enough reason in my book.

HI: What kind of name is Ed for a pretty thing like

you?

ED: Short for Edwinna. Turn to the right!

Hi obliges, but still looks at ED Out of the corner of his eye.

HI: You’re a flower, you are. just a little desert flower.

FLASH

On his eye-skewed profile.

HI: Lemme know how those come out.

VOICE-OVER: I was in for writing hot checks which,

when businessmen do it, is called an overdraft. I’m not

complainin’, mind you; just sayin’ there ain’t no pancake

so thin it ain’t got two sides. Now prison life is very

structured-more than most people care for …

Why Eric Looks Like Frakenstein

By Laura
Age 33
Seattle, WA

Eric Hodel and I have a thing about crying. You see, I like to make Eric cry. Conversely, Eric has been determined to find out if I am truly as tough as I say I am. Now, I am not that tough. But I like to pretend that I am. And I can’t have Eric thinking that I am not, otherwise my little charade will be spoiled. With that in mind, I invited Eric to come to my Judo club.

Last Friday, Eric joined me at class. He came and watched me and the guys I train with doing take downs and wrestling. It was a very chill day for the club but the usual fun. Eric was interested in taking part in a class so last night (Wednesday) Eric came to class.

I lent him a jacket of mine and he stepped onto the mat. My teacher asked me to teach him a couple of takedowns, which I did and which he attempted to execute (pretty good for a first timer) and after about an hour of working takedowns we started doing groundwork (wrestling). Eric wrestled in High School so he was pretty comfortable. In the meantime, we worked arm bars and other judo stuff and we each moved on to wrestling with other folks. I was in the middle of being told why it was that my friend Brad kept getting the same arm lock on me when I saw Eric, all bloody, heading for the sink. Apparently, the top of his eye (the spot underneath his eyebrow) had a nice head-on collision with the back of his training partners bald pate. It was at this point that my teacher turned to me and said “Laura you are going to have to take Eric to the hospital.” So I did.

I got to watch Eric get stitches. It was cool. He got six stitches and I learned the difference between a surgeons knot and a regular square knot.

BTW: Eric did NOT cry

Once upon a time, there was a girl who wanted to make a boy cry… I encouraged her. She met the boy. She made the boy cry.

The End

I don’t know if made Eric cry or not but I almost killed him driving him home from my Judo club. I made him cry out a few times. I am just going to say that that counts.