After
my high school prom, the planning committee put on an after-prom. This was supposed to deter people from going
off to other parties and participating in harmful or regrettable
activities. The theme of the after-prom
was Casino Night, so they transformed the hall into a casino; complete with a
Blackjack table, a Roulette Wheel, a karaoke machine, and other various
games. But when the fun began, I
bypassed all of these and led my date straight to the sumo wrestling mat.
That’s
right, sumo wrestling! For anyone that
has not seen this, they dress you up in a large padded suit, complete with sumo
hair and mawashi (the belt and loincloth), and you attempt to knock each other
down or bounce each other out of the ring.
There is so much padding in the suits to “fatten” you up to sumo size
that you can barely feel anything.
But
to truly understand the scene that night, you have to have a better picture of
my date. KE was 5’1” tall and probably
weighed around 120 lbs. In contrast, I
was 8” taller, although I probably didn’t outweigh her by more than 5-6
pounds. But the height was definitely an
advantage with the sumo suits, because the smallest ones were made for people
with an average height of around 5’4”.
So, KE was struggling to even see out of the top of it. Her suit was so bunched up that she could
barely move. Honestly, it was more of a
waddle.
I
have been told that to truly be romantic, you’re supposed to let the girl
win. But when an ultra-competitive
streak goes up against romance, all while dressed in a sumo suit, bad things
can happen. The moment that whistle
blew, I was off like a shot, charging my way across the mat as KE was slowly
waddling towards me. By the time we made
contact, I had built up so much momentum, that KE went flying out of the
ring! She landed with a “bumphf!” and
then lay there sort of rolling from side to side with her little arms and legs
waving and kicking frantically, trying to turn her over.
I
am not proud of what happened next. I am
still tortured by the scene in my darkest nightmares. All I can say in my defense is that sometimes
the logical side of your brain stops working; the red bloodlust comes over you,
and you cannot stop your body from moving…almost like it’s on auto-pilot. Seeing my date laying there, completely
defenseless and struggling to get up, should have made me feel sympathy. Instead, I went for the knock-out punch. I charged across the ring, leapt up into the
air, and sumo-squashed her into the mat.
The
padding from our suits collided and compacted for a moment before re-expanding
and flinging me back up. I flew off to
one side and landed on my back with a “bumphf!” and then lay there sort of
rolling from side to side with my arms and legs waving and kicking frantically,
trying to turn over. But I suddenly
stopped, and a look of horror came over me, as I looked up into the vengeful eyes
and wicked smile of my prom date, standing over me. Apparently, the momentum of our collision was
the impetus she needed to roll her the rest of the way over, and she was able
to finally push herself back up into a standing position.
A
panic came over me, and I began to struggle with renewed vigor, as she slowly
back-waddled her way across the ring. The
next thing I saw was KE suspended in the air above me, little arms and legs sticking
straight out spread-eagle. It was like
time went in slow motion, as I watched her sumo suit-covered form descending
toward me. The entire time, she was
grinning from ear to ear at the retribution that was coming. At that moment, there was no love in her
eyes, only the bloodlust.
