Krav Maga Remedy

I'm knocked out in my bed, probably snoring like a banshee when a grim dream conjures up in my head. I'm reminded of those loud air-raid sirens when I was living in Jerusalem. I was a kid the first time I heard them, I ran as fast as I could to the nearest miklat to take shelter. My Dad pulled me by my small frail arms and yelled at me to pick up my feet. My tiny legs were moving as fast as they could until my dad hoisted me up in a panic. Maybe it's why I enlisted in the IDF when I grew up, I didn't want to feel helpless again.

           The phone rings like a piercing cry.

           My friend Abigail awakened me to discuss our weekend plans. I wiped the sweat condensing from my brow and took a deep breath. "Hello?" I said in my groggy voice.

           "Liz?!" Abigail says it loud so I can hear through the chatters in the background, and coffee brewing. It's an irritating pitch for the dawn of the morning.

           "Yes...?"

           "Did you get tickets for the Deaf Chonky concert this Friday?"

           "What? No. I thought I still had like three weeks to get them?"

           "Ugh. No?"

           "So I totally forgot and fucked up the dates again, didn't I?"

           "You're kidding me? They've skyrocketed! Six hundred shekel for the pit! I know your broke-ass can't afford that, Lizzy." Abigail sighed so disappointedly that my phone created a static noise. "Wow. I'm sorry. But really, I told you last month when they were only peanuts."

           "Okay, just let me think..."

           "What're you gonna beat up the security guys to get in?"

           "I have a plan. I know a door guy who can perhaps fuck-off for a minute."

           "Okay. Are you absolutely positive? How do you even know him?"

           "He's some dude who has a crush on me, ok? I'll flirt a little. He's nice. He'll do this favor for me."

           "You're out of your mind."

           "I know. But, you're still friends with me, so that makes you just as crazy."

           "You know..." she takes a sip of something." It'll be good for you to get into this concert to meet my friends too. You can also pimp out that fighting school of yours, isn't that what you wanted?" 

           "Right. And I thank you again, my savior. I'll text you later after a few more hours of my beauty rest."

           "Yalla. Bye."

           "Heh. Bye, Sharmuta."

           I hung up and quickly got dressed and out of bed as I remembered I had to print hundreds of pamphlets. My school would be the conception of something beautiful. I would start my new Krav Maga classes at the park for the weekend and find equilibrium. I've been writing out my curriculum all month with a detailed section for the philosophy of the martial arts.

            I was lucky to have Abigail in my life. She knew about my ways of dealing with the PTSD and social anxiety, after our mandatory military enlistment. My only medicine to my problem, and my only cure was practicing Krav Maga. I realized I couldn't feel weak and vulnerable around people when I knew five different ways to kill them. I had perfected the Windpipe Strike, the Rear Naked Choke, The Twisting Neck Break, The Eye Gauging and Blows to the Head to utter perfection, but still couldn't perfect the small-talks, non-verbal, formal and informal communication techniques or avoid becoming unapproachable with my resting bitch faces. Communication sometimes felt like a combat in my head, so I thought to apply the same philosophy I used for fighting with practice. It was almost like a mental sparring of sorts, but I was determined to better myself through my passion. 

           *****

           The next day, I had my pockets stashed with flyers, I printed a few hundred copies and made my way to the Punk Rock concert in hopes to engage the crowd, turn them into my potential students and make some friends along the way.

           I wore my comfort clothes before heading out: a black bomber jacket with a giant "Gegen Nazi" patch in the back, (Big girthy fist punching a swastika symbol to bits), Doc Marten boots, and Grey military print cargo pants. I was ready for action!

           When I made it into the venue, the place had been loud, filled with thousands of drunk high-spirited stoners, millennials who still enjoyed the good stuff and progressive old people. Some were already going ape-shit before the opening band performed.

           Yuval was waiting by the door scanning people with his metal wand when I confronted him, ticket-less and looking desperate as hell.

           "Shalom, handsome." I handed him a flyer and smiled as big as I could. He knew I was full of it.

           "You know, there's no soliciting in this event, right?"

           "Suck a dick, Yuval. You better not snitch."

           Yuval laughed until he turned red. "I'm kidding with you. Z."

           "Better be." I lightly tapped him on the chest.

           "My shift is over in a few minutes, just be a ninja about it."

           "Thanks dude, I owe you one."

           "Maybe I'll join the Saturday classes someday?" he said. His voice seeming to go up and down with his nerves in full effect.

           "I hope so." I said groping his biceps. "We'll turn that mush into muscle."

           Few minutes later, I'm passing by the crowd of drunks and handing out pamphlets with the big Hebrew symbol of "K" and "M". The flyers denoted the time and place of the first classes and a motto written across, "So that one may walk in peace".

           "New Krav Maga school opening up in town. Check it out."

           "Thanks!", yelled a guy with a ripped Social Distortion shirt.

           "Sup. New Krav Maga school opening up in town. Check it out!"

           "Toda.", a quiet girl whispered with side buzz cut.

           "Here, take this. It's for my new Krav Maga school opening up! Its got pictures!"

           "Schweeet!", said a dude with a spiked collar who snatched the flyer from my hands.

           I got a few people in before my phone vibrated. It was Abigail telling me she was ready to meet by the beer dispensary, a concert equivalent to a watering hole, where all of my beloved degenerates congregated. A perfect place for impressionable soon to be warriors.

           Abigail quickly noticed me.

           "Liz! You made it. I was worried there for a second."

           "Yeah, me too."

           "I want you to meet my friends."

           "This is Aisha Al Hayb." Abigail said.

           "Shalom." said Aisha.

           "Shalom. Nice to meet you." I shook her hand and it felt like a limp fish. She seemed like a sweet person I could probably teach to grip firmly. I smiled and held it for a while.

           "Let's try that again." I said teasing her.

           She laughed.

           Abigail continued on to the next friend.

           "Shalom, I'm Talia Mizrahi, I like your payot. It's strange for a girl to have, no?"

           "Ha...Yeah, it's sort of ironic."

           "But, interesting." she said awkwardly.

           "Thanks. I like it too."

           Then Abigail introduced me to the last person, a guy with a clean hair-cut and thick glasses.

           "Last but not least. This is my boyfriend, Isaac. He served in the Lions of the Jordan Valley Batallion."

           "Ma Nishma?"

           "Nothing much, shalom. Good to finally meet you. Abigail talks about you all the time."

           I had introduced my school to each of my new acquaintances but, only Aisha seemed to take an interest in studying the martial arts with me, promising to join in on the free introduction first day. We seemed to hit it off well, and we even discovered we had a lot of other things in common. When the main band was performing, we sought out to try to get into the front by the stage.

           Aisha nudged her way through the enthusiastic crowd while pulling me by the arms when I was falling behind.

           She even helped me pass out flyers, well her version of it was tossing some at people, or sneaking them in purses. Most people wanted to get in shape, so it worked out perfect. I even got some creepy old men really eager to see "toned Jewish chicks practicing in their sports bras" Aisha joked that as long as he was paying for the classes, I could use him as a test dummy for some wooden baton training.

            I just wanted passionate people to learn the ropes, of all ages and genders.           

           As we were rushing to the front, we were obstructed by a Wall of Death mosh pit. People were running from the other end, like an American football game crashing into the other team at full force, swinging their limbs every which direction like a whirlwind. Then they started to run in a circle formation.

           Desperate to avoid their frantic dancing, we inevitably clashed, Aisha got the worse of it. She tumbled and landed back spraining her arm and hitting her head on a rough patch of dirt. I was worried she had gotten a concussion. She quickly got back up with her adrenaline rush.

           I was pushed around like a rag doll too until, I couldn't take it anymore and got rightfully defensive and pissed off. It was all fun and games for them, until I opted to strike somebody with a Krav Maga technique. I kept sturdy in my place, and got into my stance. One guy cried out and flailed his arms towards me, he was caught off guard when I pushed his chin backwards and caused him to lose his balance and fall.

           One of his friends saw and was enraged, he took a swing at me, but I deflected it and pivoted my body to evade him.

           "Chill you fucking bitch! We're just having a good time here!"

           "Stay back!" I yelled, while my heartbeat pumped quicker than what I was used to, and I suddenly felt my bladder so full, it hurt.

           Most of them were trying to break up the fight, but a few were more antagonistic. When I noticed all their eyes staring at me, some laughing, some murmuring insults, I was embarrassed and my face got cherry colored-red and I began to sweat profusely. 

           "Let's get out of here. I don- I don't feel too good." said Aisha.

           A friendly punk rocker with a mohawk escorted us out to safety towards the end of the crowd. 

           "That was wild, wasn't it?"

           "Yeah it was. We should get you checked out though".

           Aisha eyes seemed disoriented and she kept stumbling onto me, losing her balance.

           I couldn't hold it though, had her wait a second while I ran to the bathroom before taking her to the emergency care stand at the venue.

           Opening the door of the portable toilets reminded me of why I avoided large venues in the first place. The smell was unbearable, a concoction of shit and poor disregard for bathroom etiquette made me loath having to use it.

           "Hey, bitch!" a muzzled voice echoed from the outside. Someone banged on the sides and startled me while I was occupied. 

           The entire space surrounding me then vibrated like an earthquake. I tried to kick open the stall door, but idiots outside were blocking it.

           "You want to start a fight? Want to use that Karate Bullshit on us, when we're trying to get shitfaced? Huh? Well act like a Karen, then you pay the price."

           "Eat shit!" I yelled. "I'll snap you assholes in half if you don't leave me alone right now!"

           They shook it, over and over and back and forth until the napkins had all tipped over from inside.

           "You're dead when I get out!" I screamed infuriated and scared.

           It had finally collapsed to the side.

           I felt like I was in there longer than I actually was, as I struggled and kept yelling, pushing and kicking to try and get out. Finally Abigail's boyfriend Isaac opened the stall door. The loud band instruments were amplified when I got out, but I could still hear dozens of people laughing and some making surprised "Oooohhh!!!" sounds. Some were even filming me but, a few others asked if I was okay. 

           I was revolted trying to keep my vomit from flying out. I knew I wanted to die at that moment.

            The culprits were long gone by now. It wasn't my best moment or my idea of a good time being surrounded by strangers staring at me, judging me. At that moment, I hated myself for agreeing to come.

           Isaac told me that Abigail had taken Aisha out to a medical person to get checked out.

           "Thanks for helping me." I said.

           Isaac's nostrils flinched from the smell when I got too close.

           "I'm so sorry that happened to you, I saw the pricks running but-."

           "It's okay. I'm fine, just glad Aisha got some help."

           One of the concertgoers gawking at us took a photo of a rancid brown covered flyer attached to the back of my shirt, I hadn't known was there. 

           "Krav Maga, huh?" The stranger nodded. It was a younger girl who reminded me of myself.

           "Yep... Every Saturday at 11 a.m." I mumbled half-heartedly.

           "I saw you kick those jerk's asses earlier. I'll probably check this out."

At that moment I was reminded of something, standing there with my clothing soiled in a cocktail of shit from a few dozen people. Something my father said to me once, you can never prepare for how your days gonna end up. He said "Living in anticipation and living in fear is not really living". He fed me some self depricating wisdom about feeling pain is to be human. But he also told me it's worth getting out of your comfort zone for those nice moments when you unexpectedly make a new friend, or have a real human experience worth reflecting on.