First Date

“C’mon, it will be fun!”

Your words still echo in my mind, Tom. First date. A boxing match? But like a good sport, I went along.

We sat in the front row.

“Only the best for you, Bev!”

The room was filled with smoke and a din so loud, I couldn’t even hear myself think. If I could have, I’d probably have left sooner. Instead, I sat there, hands over my ears watching two grown men beating one another senseless. You never even sat down, Tom. You were jumping up and down, yelling like a mad man the entire time.

“How long does this last?” I screamed at you.

You leaned down, barely catching my words. “Until one of them is knocked out!”

The fight went on endlessly. Neither man hit the floor for the first six rounds. Just endless beatings to the face, torso, and kidneys. There should be rules against these kinds of fights. I couldn’t believe I had my hair done and bought this expensive dress that I could ill afford. All for this?

Round seven began and both fighters staggered to the center of the ring. I could tell they were both exhausted. There was little fight in those punches. I was pretty exhausted too. I just wanted to leave. Go home to my cats.

Startling even myself, I stood up and screamed, “Just knock him out already!”

Apparently, the taller boxer of the two heard me and did just that. He walloped the shorter boxer so hard in the jaw that not only did he go down, but blood splattered from the boxer’s mouth and yes, landed all over my new dress.

But you know what? I didn’t even care. This was the most exciting ending to an evening I’d had in ages.

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