On The Kisser

The anger growing in me feels good, my fist clenches, I am going to knock this guy into next week. My whole life I took the hits, the curses, well no more. I am Rocky, the greatest boxer who ever lived. Standing at the bar, half listening to Lori, this asshole bumped me hard, I know it was on purpose. I snap, throw my glass at the floor, the crash echoing the sound in my head.  Adrenaline and whisky course through me, the din of the crowd recedes into a bubble of silence. My blood pumping, loud and fast, while the driving guitar of ‘Eye of the Tiger’ pounds in my head. Lori pulls on my shoulder, trying to get me to walk away.  I rock slightly side to side, ready for action.  I have been training for weeks for just this moment!  I’m not going to back down because of her, even if it is our first date. I will be like Rocky when he takes out Apollo Creed, I am going to drop the hammer! 

I focus on his chin, the button we boxers call it, a few days of stubble on his jutting, square jaw.  His head is moving side to side, yelling, spittle spraying out of his mouth, saying something I don’t hear. The rest of his head is block shaped, his balding crew cut sticking straight up. Shorter than me by a few inches, he is staring straight at my chest, not giving up the alpha-male status acknowledging I am taller. In the dark bar I can not see much else, my vision narrowed to just my target.  I am going to hit this guy’s button and drop him.

When I had to move back home, I did not do much, recovering from a broken heart.  I re-watched the Rocky movies with my dog Butkus, over and over. That spurred me to finally do it, take boxing lessons.  Maybe because of who I hung out with in high school, the Theater kids and Stoners, I avoided anything physical, especially fighting.  My Dad wanted me to be different, more like him. 

“You need to act like a man, be tough and find better friends,” he would say. “What about playing football, or boxing?”

Because the only kind of ‘boxing’ I knew about was for presents, my Dad put on the Rocky movie.  I didn’t take up boxing, but fell for the movies.  I love Stallone!  Rocky, the underdog story, coming from nothing like me and then winning.  The fight scenes are so great, with grasping, gyrating bodies moving in and out with each other. And Stallone’s drooping, sad eyes, I dreamed those eyes looked at me

Whenever I catch part of a Rocky movie, I have to watch until the end, because, what if this time he gets beat by Clubber Lang, or loses to Ivan Drago? But he never does!  Rocky is the Greatest.  When Johnny took me with him on his trip to Philadelphia last year I made him run up the Art Museum steps with me, just like Rocky.

If I could fight like Rocky, maybe I can be a winner like him; now I am just a loser. Failed to get my dream job, failed with Johnny, and failed at home. After two years my acting career consisted of two print ads and as an extra on some commercials. This is my chance to start over, become a boxer!  Dad agreed to pay for the lessons, and I like it better than I thought I would.  I look forward to going to the gym.  I practice drills and hit the bags, speed bag is my favorite, using technique not strength. I sometimes imagine the round bag is Johnny's square face. I can't believe he kicked me out of his house for that boy! Left, left, left, hard right to his head, Bam! 

I can’t wait to get in the ring. Mostly I just watch the guys, especially Robbie, even if my coach says I need to work more and watch less. Robbie agreed to spar with me, 'ya, some time' he said.  I can not wait. Robbie in the ring is amazing, so smooth, with his shirt off, sweat pouring down his ripped body, twisting and jabbing and punching; I am learning a lot.  

Boxing helps out with my Dad too. We were OK when I was little, but through high school he did not approve of my ‘choices’ as he called them, so I had to leave.  He would approve of me now, getting in fights is what a Man does.

Staring at the chin, I step back with my right foot to get my proper stance.  Remember, tighten my stomach for extra power, push off and turn my hips for strength.  I can hear my boxing coach reminding me to bend my knees and be light on my feet. 

Crew Cut’s sharp angled jawline looks so inviting, and his lips. His square head reminds me of Johnny. Anger and desire swirl, build and combine together until I don't know the difference. What would it be like to kiss him? Suddenly the silence bubble pops and his words get my attention, “Come on dumbass, goddamn M-F-! Put up or shut up! “ he yells out. 

It’s time!  I lift my arms while clenching my fists and take in a breath. 

“One!” I breathe out as I snap my left hand, a hard jab to get my distance. A glancing blow on the outside of his head above his ear, I missed!  My whole body is electric, energy flowing and coursing through me. I am Rocky, there is no stopping me now!   I bring my right hand up and his eyes finally flick up to mine. He did not think I would actually fight! 

“Two!” I jab again, another quick and hard left.  Connecting this time, I hit him above his left eyebrow. 

‘Three!’ I breathe out short, my hip turns sharp, and my back leg pushes strong, all into a hard straight right toward that beautiful well-built chin. I even remember to twist my wrist into the punch.    

Bam! Just like at the gym, a solid connection!  And an explosion of pain ignites in my hand. Leaning over my front leg I wait for him to fall down. The loud rushing in my ears is all I hear as the silence bubble closes again.  I forgot to breathe; I inhale.  

Crew Cut does not fall, he twists his head back toward me smiling. His lips are a little more red, and puffy, and kissable.  My mind goes blank, what do I do now? My coach was always going on about something… Recovery position! I remember suddenly, and straighten up and bring my hands up toward my face and clench my fists, except my right hand does not work.  I look down and see split skin on my knuckles.  I glance back at Crew Cut just in time to see him reach back, and then everything turns black. 

I wake up staring at a circle of heads looking down, and the slowly rotating fan blades on the ceiling.  A dull pain in my jaw, I can not turn my head.  

“Adrian! Yo, Adrian…” I mumble from the ground.  

Blinking to clear my vision, I recognize Lori looking down on me, a look of disgust on her face. My mom is going to be pissed. Lori is her friend's daughter and I was supposed to make a good impression.   

“Oh, he’s awake”, Lori turns her head to someone at my feet, I can not see who. 

“Oh thank god. You OK?”  a man’s deep voice asks.

A square head enters the circle and blocks my view of the rotating fan blades. Is it Johnny? No, I recognize the chin. 

‘“Damn dude you dropped like a sack of potatoes, I barely hit you.“ Crew Cut says. “You feeling OK?”

‘Uh yah, I guess,” I say, and then try to get up. I push off with my right hand on the ground and instantly fall back as the pain shoots up my arm. “Ahhh!’ I squeal.

Hands grab my shoulders and pull me up to a sitting position.  I am sitting in something wet, only spilled beer, I hope. I tuck my right arm into my chest and raise my left to get lifted to my feet, and then am directed over to the bar for something to lean on.  Crew Cut comes over, “Let me get you a drink,” he motions to the bartender.  “By the way my name is Dave,” he says.  “Your girl was telling me this is your first date- what a story!”

I look around for Lori, she is backing away from the group around me. Dave hands me a shot glass.

“Yah, quite a story. Though she is not my girl.” I took the shot in my left hand, and drank it in one gulp.  “Damn, my head hurts!  Hey bartender, another round for me and my friends.”

I am the center of attention of this group of men. I look again at Dave. There is something about his eyes, drooping and sad. 

“So you were saying I almost had you, huh? Man, that was a lucky shot.” I rub my jaw, and then lean in close to grab his shoulder. “You must box, I do too.” 

I wonder what my Dad would think of this choice of friends.   I see Lori walking out the door. She wasn't my type anyway, I prefer boxers.   I have been preparing for weeks, and just like Rocky, got knocked down,  but still might salvage a win.