Last night I and some of the other monks from the monastery went to a Dallas Stars' game. As it turns out, there is this sport in America that they play on ice with sticks and a rock. A bunch of guys on one side of the pond are trying to keep the other guys from sticking that rock in their basket. They have uniforms and everything.Apparently when one skater doesn't like what another skater is doing, he will stop the game and attempt to beat the crap out of his opponent.
This got me thinking about how much different my job would be if we saw this same kind of practice in your office.
Co-worker: "Hey Midwestern Monk, did you call that kid from Nebraska?"
MM: "Nope"
Co-worker: "Why not?"
MM: "Your face...and speaking of your face, take that."
(Insert awesome fight scene where the Midwestern Monk shows off some really great punch combinations...and maybe one of those deals where the guy pulls the shirt over the head of the other guy and begins tickling him)
Something that I learned last night is that there are some unwritten rules of etiquette (I don't even want to admit how many tries it took me before I came close to spelling "etiquette"). I think someone should write these suckers down.
1) You can't punch a guy while he is lying down on the ice. I think this is a good rule. Since both guys are keeping their balace on sharpened razor blades, I think we should keep the punching to vertical sparring.
2) Before you punch a guy, you have to drop your gloves. Hence the phrase, "taking your gloves off." I'm not sure I get this one. I guess the idea of hitting a guy with gloves on is too close to boxing and that would just screw everyone up.
3) If you win a fight, you can't celebrate the fact that you just smacked the silly out of someone by cheering. I don't know about you, but I would struggle with this one. If I were to win a fight, I would be doing the ole Hulk Hogan wave in which I cup my ear and point to the crowd. If the other guy doesn't like it, he can come back and get some more. Yeah.
In summary, snakes don't have armpits. The End.
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