(g) bitter waittress

had to serve busiest section a u.f.c fight tonight. i’ve no clue what that stands for, but it was some paid-per-view wrestling extravaganza that garnered too much rye, and too much testosterone. it was awkward, b/c in the throes of its most intimate moments—strangle holds and strutting—i basically had to duck down so that the fifty people watching the thing could still see/scream at the tv. it wasn’t mayhem. i’ve served worse. definitely interesting. from a purely passivist’s perspective, i prepared myself before hand, i ought to accept that w/o such an occasion, i wouldn’t be able to make loads of money. [spain here i come.] i had this realization tho, that took me beyond it.
having many, many men, screaming and pounding their fists on the table actually turned me on. we walk around in society as tho we aren’t apes, as tho primal behaviour is extinct. but herein lies the beauty of any wrestling match. stagey, fine. barbaric, definitely. but perhaps, it's the one occasion when men finally let their emotions go. well maybe that’s an over generalization. tho, i can’t deny, it makes me feel like this little woman when i witnessed it all. not belittled, or w/o power, but rather, accepting of this dominant emotional repression of men, and that they need to get it out in some form, which more often than not is concretated in some sporting event. i’ve never condoned fighting or have ever really wanted to see it, but i must admit, that when a fight did break out at the end of the night, i was soooo intrigued and half way in it, that my most rational thots were more directed in watching it. sure, it’s primal. uncivilized, awful. but goddamn. seeing men displaying such intense emotions and wanting to play them out. well that’s just hot.