Bill's Story

or "How My Wife Became A Dojo Rat"


    In retrospect I should have seen it coming from the beginning--
all the signs had been there.  But to be fair to myself, I wasn't at
most of the kids' first weekday classes and Kathy always slept in
during their classes on Saturdays.  I wasn't there to see Kathy's
reaction to Sensei's occasional taunts of, "I'd like to see some of you
parents out here doing this."  Then again, maybe it would have
made no difference.  Like the day she took off her shoes so that she
could cut through the dojo to "get a drink of water."  Maybe even
Kathy didn't see it for the excuse it was.  The chance to touch her
bare feet on dojo carpet and walk the same Path of all the students
before her.
    I remember when she took that self-defense class.  "Just an hour
on Friday nights for 6 weeks," she had said.  "Just to see what it's
like."  Well, she signed all right--could have been in blood for all
the difference it made.  I recall one night when the weather wasn't
too good and she came home from class saying that she had been
the only student there.  I said, "Maybe you should have taken the
night off, too."  She said, "Oh, no.  I wanted to be sure I got my
money's worth."  It seemed pointless at the time to remind her that
the class had been free to the first 20 women who signed and that
she had been one of them.
    Well, it wasn't long before she signed up for regular classes.  It
was three days a week.  Tuesday and Thursday nights, and the
noon class on Saturdays suited her fine.  Then they changed the
Saturday class to what Kathy called "the un-godly hour" of 8:15. 
"No way," she had said.  "No way!"  But the bug had already bitten
her, dojo rat-iness was already in her blood, and she needed her
three-day-a-week fix.  She picked up the Monday noon class to
make up for Saturdays, then there'd come a week with a Monday
holiday and the school would be closed, and she'd be hell to live
with until Tuesday night.  It was like living with Kato.  "Punch at
me!  Kick at me!" she'd demand.  "Grab my lapel!"  Didn't matter to
her that her tee shirt had no lapels to grab. Then she'd start in on
the kids.  "Block me, darnit!"--until they'd be crying and screaming,
"Please, mommy, no more!"  Oh, the school had Wednesday noon
classes back then, but Kathy completely refused to go to them.  "No
way.  Take classes three days in a row?  No way."  Then someone
got the idea of starting a Friday noon class and the kids and I got a
reprieve.
    At first Kathy only took Friday classes as a make-up, but then
she began to worry openly that Friday classes might be
discontinued if enough people didn't show.  I knew it was just a
matter of time then, and I wasn't at all surprised the next week
when she took Monday, Tuesday, Thursday and Friday class, too. 
Yes, she was hooked on a four-day-a-week habit and I knew it
could only escalate from there.
    This past Monday night she mentioned how someone had asked
her at class if she was going to be there Wednesday.  She told me
she said "Maybe," but I know what that really means.  If I call her
from work around noon today, she won't be home.  But I'll know
where to find her.
    Kathy still sleeps in on Saturdays, but she's been getting up
earlier and earlier claiming that her back aches if she stays in bed
too long.  Then at 8:15 I'll catch her looking at her watch.  Yep.  It's
only a matter of time.
    As for me I carry a baseball bat and I keep my steel-toed boots on.
The nearest I'll come to any dojo is the lobby.  Let's just see that bug
try to catch me.

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