One of my items under the proverbial “Things to do Before I Die” list is to get into a fight. And I mean a real good fight, maybe in a bar, with broken beer bottles, a “What the f*ck did you just call me?!”, lots of punching and hopefully a few gashes on the arm. I want my fight to basically have everything that makes a fight awesome (except hair pulling, kiddy pools filled with chocolate pudding and bikinis, those are no-nos).
I don’t even care if it’s with a boy or girl. I would prefer the latter only because a girl with a similar body type is easier to handle (assuming I can “handle” anyone at all), but then I run the risk of people objectifying us into some sexist “catfight” scene (you know, because it’s that easy for me to be seen as a sex object, damn). On the other hand, if I get into a fight with a guy and win, how awesome would that be?
Of course, all this daydreaming about the perfect fight always ends with me winning, which, you may have noticed, might not be the most realistic expectation ever. It technically wouldn’t make any sense that I could ever win a fight – I’m 95 pounds with no athletic ability (unless you consider drilling holes in the bodies of my enemies with ping pong balls because they cannot escape the wrath of my super-sonic slams), ailing from a chronic breathing illness and I have a body type that still makes me a legitimate demographic for the Limited Too™.
Because I’d like to say “No thanks“ to ever getting my ass handed to me, I do have a couple tricks up my sleeve should I ever get into a fight.
Choose your opponents wisely. When assessing the situation, you should seriously ask yourself, “Do I have a good chance of winning this thing?” If the answer is a resounding, “No, probably not. You will get your face smashed,” then that’s a good indication that your body is telling you no – even if your fists are screaming, “Let’s do this thing!”
The only way I could ever win, for instance, is if I went up against a toddler or some sort of very obese infant. Other options include: a 3-year-old with vertigo, a 5-year-old with severe narcolepsy, and perhaps I could take on a very debilitated 7-year-old with no sense of sight. But that’s a big maybe.
If it looks like you’re about to die, you can always opt out of the fight. It’s true that quitters never win but then again, quitters never lose either. If you forfeit the match by groveling or any other extreme act of desperation, but still get to keep your neck, I’d definitely say that’s a win.
A few things you can do are throw money at your opponent or my personal favorite – tell on them. Preferably to someone who has some sort of authoritative standing like a police officer or a bar manager. Unfortunately, I advise against calling up your mother in the middle of the fight and expect her to do something in the next five seconds that would prevent your opponent from collapsing your lungs with his fist (I’ve never been so utterly disappointed by her than after that).
Never be the one to pick the fight because claiming self-defense is a great argument in court, just in case you end up killing the guy or something. Also, if someone picks a fight with you, you are automatically absolved of all blame for whatever the fight was about. Even if it was something stupid like some girl screaming at you because you were staring at her cleavage and rolling your eyes (because she obviously wore that low-cut dress so people can notice her deep intelligence and sparkling personality) you become the victim once she stabs your face with her stilettos, huzzah!
If you do start a fight, you better make sure it was for a good reason. Nothing is worse than getting into a fight in a public space only to realize that no one is standing behind you because you, sir, are an idiot.
It also sucks when all your friends completely disagree with what you’re doing and you end up not only being beaten up by that guy at the bar, but also by all your best friends who sided with him and are now going to eat lunch with him next week and be on his Ultimate Frisbee team.
LYNN LOO LA hopes that after this column runs, random people will not all of a sudden want to kick her ass. E-mail her at ldla@ucdavis.edu.
