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Black Belt
Dec. 13th, 2005 08:29 pmI had a nice surprise waiting for me when I arrived at the Y today for my class. Aaron Spivack, a guy I’ve known since I was a kid, and who trained with us for years and years, was waiting in the lobby. He got his black belt in ChaYon Ryu about, oh, six or seven years ago, and then joined the Marines right out of high school, so we’ve only seen him sporadically since then.
It was lovely to see him again, and I was glad we got a chance to catch up for a while as I waited for the aerobics class ahead of us to finish up and clear out. And waited. And waited.
When they had run ten minutes over time, one of my brown belts went upstairs to find out what was going on from the front desk. And then, when she reported back to me, I went to find out what was going on.
I’m still not sure I understand it, but evidently there was some kind of scheduling mixup that no one behind the desk was responsible for, so that no one behind the desk could fix it. All they were able to do, pretty much, was act surly and hurt because instructors and students were irritated that they hadn’t been informed that their class times had changed. I could sympathize with the guys behind the desk, of course. After all, it wasn’t their fault. But despite the fact that I was dressed out in my dobak and everyone there knows that I’m perfectly capable of shattering bricks, it’s not as though I was being aggressive or confrontational in any way. I was certainly tempted to start breaking something when my perfectly reasonable query about other available class spaces was met with a sullen shrug and a scowl.
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It was lovely to see him again, and I was glad we got a chance to catch up for a while as I waited for the aerobics class ahead of us to finish up and clear out. And waited. And waited.
When they had run ten minutes over time, one of my brown belts went upstairs to find out what was going on from the front desk. And then, when she reported back to me, I went to find out what was going on.
I’m still not sure I understand it, but evidently there was some kind of scheduling mixup that no one behind the desk was responsible for, so that no one behind the desk could fix it. All they were able to do, pretty much, was act surly and hurt because instructors and students were irritated that they hadn’t been informed that their class times had changed. I could sympathize with the guys behind the desk, of course. After all, it wasn’t their fault. But despite the fact that I was dressed out in my dobak and everyone there knows that I’m perfectly capable of shattering bricks, it’s not as though I was being aggressive or confrontational in any way. I was certainly tempted to start breaking something when my perfectly reasonable query about other available class spaces was met with a sullen shrug and a scowl.
( Read more... )
