Friday, October 29, 2004

After I said this, this girl let me thrust a big phallic object at her repeatedly

After a layoff of nearly a decade, I started fencing again tonight, at a club only a short walk from my house.

"This is Peter," the club president told everyone. "He used to fence at Queen's University about ... nine years ago?"

"Eight or nine," I agreed.

"Back when dinosaurs roamed the earth," she continued.

"My skills are also extinct," I added.

"Anyway, he lives in the neighborhood, so he had to join," she concluded.

"Well, I didn't have to," I said. "I wanted to. I didn't feel obligated to join just because I live close by. And it's not like I was worrying that I'd better brush up on my dueling skills in case I got jumped by a roving pack of you foil fencers outside my house."

Laughter. But now I wonder: Was this a joke? Was I ever safe after all?

Moral: For mutual protection, join your local fencing club at the nearest opportunity. Failing that, join a street gang.


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