Have you ever played one those punching bag games at a bar? You put in a dollar, the speed bag drops down from the machine, you step into it with a right hook, and it spits out your force on a 1,000-point scale. Whenever I see one of these thing I have to burn at least a couple bucks.
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Last night I had the honor of assisting one of my best buds with his marriage proposal. A couple other dudes and I had the task of securing a table a top of the John Hancock tower and leaving the roses there to be waiting for the beautiful couple. She said yes. Obviously this calls for some celebration.
The other dudes and I went to a bar up the street and I quickly realized they had one of these seductive punching bag machines. We all took a couple swings. So what I think makes this game fun is that without fail some chicks and their accompanying meatheads will gather around to watch the action. They stand in a huddle laughing and probably making comments about how weak we are, and we stand in a huddle and laugh and make comments about what cheap meatheads they are.
Last night a woman calls out from the huddle, "I want to make a bet." I welcome this sort of enthusiasm, and prepare a pep talk for my giant Russian friend who will surely be facing off against one of her dudes. The chick- "I want to make a bet with the guy in the blue sweater, " which is me of course, "I think I can take him." I should have walked away like my friend on the middle school wrestling team who quit just before he had to face a girl named Charline on the practice mats.
We negotiated the terms of the wager (photo below). You can see that she is heavier than me and the expression on her face lets you know she runs a hard bargain. I had to beat her score by 75 points. In retrospect I like to think I was teaching a little lesson to my friends on how not to negotiate.
I step up to the bag first and she starts with the vicious taunts- "Leprechaun boy," "Large shiny forehead," and "Hey stupid a-hole, you know you're gong to lose to a girl, right?." I had overestimated my mental toughness, even after all those hard-fought battles on the IM basketball court. I punch through the bag and score a pretty respectable 772- not my best, not my worst. I retreat to my corner.
She takes her position. She winds up and jabs like a girl. Her score shoots up and decelerates to land on a 708. Blarney. Instant shame.
Of course I go double-or-nothing. And I'm going to stop the story right here.

The author working out a bet with female challenger. Giant Russian looks on.
(Photo by R. Ganatra)

