Far from Neon Roads

(Content Warning: Cursing, Violence)

I'm in a good place, I haven't wanted to tear my hair out or punch a hole in a wall in a couple of weeks. Reflecting on my actions and taking control of my emotions from a stressful job was invigorating, but I could feel the urge to relapse from an outburst at any given moment. I needed to make an escape from daily life, more liken to Bonnie and Clyde running from stress than a meditative retreat. The prolongation of not dealing with my anger issues was a risky maneuver that would have jeopardized my position working as a Customs Officer. I was seemingly seconds from cursing out a customer for filing their documents incorrectly. I needed to get away from all that noise in my life.  

When times were really tough, when I felt the itch of lashing out and yelling, I watched the lowest point of my life unfold in the size of a miniscule screen in my pocket. That moment forever immortalized on a viral video dubbed "French-Fry Freddy". My name wasn't even Freddy by the way, but it was a catchy name for a belligerent adult man throwing a tantrum for something as trivial as a wrong order. I played the video every time I needed a reminder on how an adult should not act in public. I watched it unfold and cringed a little inside.

"It's unacceptable. I'm a customer, how long have I been here?" I yelled hovering over the counter jabbing my finger in the face of a cashier trying to diffuse the situation.

"Sir I'm being polite here... Can you please try to calm down?"

"How dare you! You treated me so badly. You accuse me of lying!" 

"Sir, please, we'll get you the correct order right away..."

"That's not good enough, I want you to say why you're sorry!"

"I cant apologize a hundred times..."

The next part of the video I couldn't bare to watch, I acted like a rabid pit-bull who saw red. I put the phone down still listening with my headphones, I needed to finish this no matter how embarrassing it was. I listened to the sound of me grabbing a fist full of French fries and shoving them in my mouth yelling muffled profanities that sounded like unintelligible guttural sounds. I then launched a platter of food over the counter towards the manager in the establishment. Like I said, the lowest point of my life. So I requested my vacation and booked my flight instantly.

This journey brought me to a city that tickled most people's worse intuitions, Las Vegas of all places. In hindsight maybe not the best choice for a city to try and relax and escape my stresses, but I brought my trusty pamphlet from anger management counseling to help for the couple of days I needed it. I had highlighted the words on the first page and wondered ways to avoid "the physiological arousal that anger caused."

The next few days I had taken drinking and gambling to a minimum, when I still felt unsatisfied and felt angry with myself, I went to the hotel and jotted in my journal. There was a trick my sponsor had shared with me to relieve the triggering sensations. I laid down and focused on the syllables in words for writing haikus. I watched the people walking on the strip for inspiration from several dozens of stories up.

Neon-Lit Bleakness

Blurred faces all around me

Happiness's real myth

It wasn't until I joined those blurred faces from the window late late at night when I received the answer on a piece of paper. A guy handed me a card for a fight club off the strip several miles deep in the desert. Taking those Jiu-Jitsu courses had always felt pointless if I wasn't using them, so this was my chance to shine and fulfill something in my life. What's so bad about some friendly sparring with strangers? I could make some cash in the meantime and test out my hard work. I read the small business card the strange man handed me. 

"FEELING FRUSTERATED?

WANT TO TEST YOUR FIGHTING SKILLS ON AN OPEN MAT? 

WANT A CHANCE TO WIN 10,000 $ CASH AND 5000 $ FOR COMPETING?

SEND A PICTURE AND EMAIL TO TJ FOR DIRECTIONS, ONLY 10 WILL QUALIFY. "

The address they had was an air-base 85 miles from the strip going northbound on I-95. From the bleak streets that smelled like marijuana and cheap cocktail drinks, I set my eyes on the road to a dusty mountain horizon. Dolly Parton and Willie Nelson were my road-trip buddies driving long lonesome hours down long stretches of road in the blistering heat. I sang along to classic country tunes and worked on haikus in my head. Several cars drove by and they all seemed in a hurry to leave this wasteland, semi trucks lagging on the two-way lane only made me a little upset in short spurts, it was progress.

My heart would race thinking about getting to this warehouse in the middle of nowhere.  

Then about a mile away looming from the end of the road almost appearing from thin air, I spotted a silver pickup truck speeding towards my direction hauling a trail of dust. I was blocked from a semi truck and a bobtail, the silver pickup still tailgated me closely and honked.  He went over the shoulder of unpaved dirt road to get ahead of me and the truck forcing me to slam the break. I swerved from the fogged up sand he drafted behind him. He could have killed someone from that move, what was he thinking? I revved up my engine and caught up to him and honked. He lowered his windows quick before I could yell anything.

"Go back to your bankrupt state, you hippie prick!" the enraged man said.

He must have checked out my license plates. He had a thick untamed red beard, trucker's hat and a plaid shirt. He waved his middle finger out before cutting me off again.

"You..." I scowled and bit my tongue then continued to punch my empty seat besides me and wanted to desperately follow him and throw my loose change at his windshield. I was no stranger to road rages, but I was better than this now. I chose the high road instead and pulled my car over the side of a rest stop for a time out. I reclined the seat back, took a deep breath and let the windows down. I stared into my sunroof and jotted words in my head...

Lonely tumbleweed

Traveling somewhere blindly

Unfettered by breeze

As the sun's beaming rays started to strengthen, I stared at the directions on the card in my pocket once more. They were vague, I would need to pass Edward's Air Force base turn right on the stop sign to a lone dirt road with a rusted yield sign hanging. Might as well given me the celestial coordinates at this point. 

I set out to drive again and after another hour, I had finally reached the air base. I could see cameras allover the sides of the street pointed at the cars, and ubiquitous signs urging the drivers to lower their speed limit. The wide plateau in the distance made it look like I was heading down to a lower elevation.

I finally made it to the dirt road where the Yield sign was rusted and broken, I could see a warehouse at a distance almost hidden by the elevations of the land. Driving closer to the location made my radio station turn into static noise. I noticed other cars parked on the side including the familiar silver pickup truck I had seen a few hours prior. It was quiet and odd to walk in the middle of a desolate place. The only sounds I heard were a shrieking hawk flying by that seemed to be looking at me when it landed and shrubbery moving from the winds.  

I parked and walked up to the door in the warehouse and proceeded to knock. A man startled me when he opened the small slide in the center of the door. He wore army fatigues and had a short buzzed haircut.

"You here about the ad, sir?" 

"Uh, Yeah.. I'm looking for TJ?"

"One moment, please". 

A camera that had been looking towards my general direction moved slightly to investigate me. I caught the lens tilting away abruptly like a timid teenager caught in a gaze. Then the slide compartment opened again.

"Come on in, sir" the young man said opening the door and standing to the side of it in perfect military formation, standing straight arms to the side.

There were several other uniformed men inside all standing by the edge of the large mat in the center. There appeared to be a couple people that had shown up for the fight, they were lounging around and drinking coffee in the corner that was set up for them. There were about ten people including that bearded trucker guy from the road that quickly identified me from the double-take glance he gave. I kept having doubts in my head about doing this, and wondered what kind of crazy person answers to an ad like this?

With us 10 in place, there would be about 5 fights that would take place in front of the onlookers of uniformed men. Trucker guy was first against a muscular guy with a clean cut and a full sleeve of logographic Chinese character tattoos. 

The muscular man fought in his efficient style, landing a perfect blow after the other before Trucker guy could react. Then he quickly got him into a rear naked choke grip. Trucker looked like he was done for until he lowered his head and quickly head butted the tattooed man backwards causing him to hold his nose to try and relieve the bleeding. We all looked at the men in uniform for a reaction, but they hadn't given one. They kept staring as Trucker guy then kicked the man in the crotch and caused him to fall back and moan. So much for a "fair fight", allowing groin hits and cheap shots. Trucker guy was a disgraceful combatant and his opponent had laid on the ground to suffer. He continued to punch and kick him as he desperately tried to block the blows.

"Stop!" the man yelled. "I give up!"

I clenched my fist and was ready to jump in if trucker had persisted. The army men looked unfazed from watching it unfold.   

"Gentlemen, how much do I get if I kill this son bitch?", the trucker scoffed. One of the young military men whispered to another one. He had TJ stitched on his camouflaged shirt.

"30,000$" he said. 

Trucker smiled and looked at the unconscious man laying on the ground. He clenched his fist and extended them out once more.

"Ha! Man, you are all nuts" trucker laughed and walked away from the man, he walked behind me bumping me on the shoulder. It enraged me further, he shouldn't get away with it. I couldn't wait to fight him next.

"Car-Nage-In-His-Fists" I whispered. "That's five syllables alright..."

I had no idea what I got myself into and wanted to run, but the doors were locked and I had a feeling it wouldn't have gone easy with the gentlemen from the base. I swallowed my instinct and stood there hoping I didn't get to face the 6'5 monster standing to the side of me. 

My next match was a breeze, I was able to knock out a man fairly easily, but didn't beat him too extreme. The rest of the matches were anticlimactic, people just needed the money so they came in with no real fighting background or an ambition to prove anything. My time spent in the gym had finally amounted to something here.

Then round 2 came around. Everyone was exhausted and ready to call it quits. Then the men from the base announced the winner of the first round could walk away but get to keep their 10 grand if they wished, but they would up the ante and double the prize winnings for the next round. I foolishly accepted another round. I wanted to take the trucker on and teach him a lesson.

I walked over to the end of the mat where he waited stretching his arms. 

"Good I finally get to you pretty boy, I'll make sure you don't remember a thing tomorrow, pussy". he said.

I gritted my teeth looking at him.

"Ly-ing-Un-con-scious 

"Five" I whispered.

"Are you talking to yourself, little bitch?" 

He ran up and threw a few jabs towards me without hesitation. One scraped the side of my head and hit my ear pretty rough. Here comes the cauliflower ear. It hurt like hell too.

"That was five syllables..." I whispered.

I used some of his own dirty tricks on him, kicking him in the crotch to give him a taste of his own medicine. I bested him in the fight without losing control. Breathing techniques usually help in martial arts, they teach you to control the adrenaline and energy levels.

"Go to sleep, cowboy!" I punched his lights out. He stood down for a moment and woke back up, he knew he didn't have any fight left in him. He stumbled up and ran to the end of the wall and ransacked a metal storage case the army men had kept. TJ and the rest only watched him as he pulled out the biggest combat knife I had ever seen.

"Don't do it man. You don't want to do this..." I pleaded

"Please, calm down..." the rest said. "Put it down!" they yelled.

We cried out for the men in uniform to help us but they stood silent. Trucker had ran to me in a fit of rage clutching his knife out. I panicked but knew I couldn't outrun him. Was it the end of me and this stupid adventure into the desert? Will the cats drag away my bones from an unmarked grave? Everyone else screamed as he came rushing in. Then a flashing light had blinded me, it was followed by a small explosion. It took a few long seconds to get my vision back from the white spots. I rubbed my eyes and tried to gain my composure again.

When I opened them, I saw a pool of blood and what was left of the trucker man's clothing lying charred in a stain on the mat. The troops had remained unscathed, they stood passive with their hands behind their back, thumbs interlocked.

"What just happened?" I said breathing heavily. "Were we attacked?". 

I saw the haunted faces of those other fighters, they began to run towards the exit door. Then more flashing white lights followed, the implosions came from the strangers running away, dead in an instant and their insides rained down in close proximity from where they were struck.

Me and a few others that didn't run stood petrified covered in red, desperately looking around the room for what was going on. T.J. was at the end of the mat holding a device in his hand.

I closed my eyes and thought of my only way to cope.

My fists soaked in red

Warheads of glowing white light

From the great unknown