Fight Club

Last Friday night I went to a MMA thing. What? You mean you don't know what that is? Oh my gosh, you are so not cool. For your information, MMA stands for Mixed Martial Arts. And it's a thing because I don't know if it was a match or fight or event. And let's be honest with ourselves, does it really matter and do I care. OK, that's a bit harsh. I do care solely because someone I care about, cares about it. So basically, here's what went down. Guys beat each other up all night. MMA, I didn't see. OK, so I have no clue what a MMA move would look like, so it's quite possible that I did see some MMA but I still don't think I did.

I did see a lot of blood. We were in the 3rd row so ideally I would have come prepared, the way people in the 80s prepared for a Gallagher concert. Seriously, the blood. It was out of control. I felt like I was at a Red Cross blood drive. People were just giving it away. The most common place it was donated from was the nose. No, no, it was above the eye. It actually might have been the cheek. Actually, I don't even know because it was just coming out everywhere. It didn't gross me out (which is good, being a nursing student) but I wanted to run up there, apply pressure and stitch everyone up.

I think the greatest part of the evening was when the fighters were introduced by the announcer and strutted down the walkway toward the ring. What made this so great? Each dude had their own walk (strut, if you will) and most seemed to have water in their ears because they shook their head from side to side coming down the walk. They also must have just finished rock climbing because they were shaking their arms out. Hey, reality check. You're in Portland, Oregon with a couple thousand people cheering. Oh, and let's not forget the entourages. You know, you've seen the show. The guys who really can't survive in the work world and are constantly telling the fighters how awesome they are and how rad they look and how they're going to pummel the snot out of the guy in the blue corner. Most of these guys were short. Just my observation.

And now let's discuss who I was sitting around (with a few exceptions). (Disclaimer: these are simply my observations.)
I was perhaps the only natural blonde. I had perhaps the only silicone-free chest. I had perhaps the only lower back not tatooed with butterflies, asian writing or flowers. I was sober, but I'm sure a lot of them were sober also. It's just most of the time, I couldn't tell. I had a hunch I probably wasn't the target demographic for this event by simply walking through the Rose Garden lobby. I was a girl in a khaki shorts & a white sleeveless blouse. Clearly, in the minority. Clearly, I did not know I would be attending this romp when I dressed that morning. I had actually dressed for a church celebration.

Would I go back? Probably not. Am I glad I went? Yes, now that it's over. I was cultured, expanded my horizons and as the saying goes, you gotta try everything at least once, right? Right! Even MMA.