Bruce Lee Growl

I have an extra seat in my office. It’s a nice comfortable leather seat that I pinched when some guy that worked in the room next door resigned and wasn’t replaced. This chair is very popular with all my colleagues. Everyone wants to come and sit on it.

Every morning, anytime between ten and eleven, this seat of mine is usually occupied by one of two female colleagues. They come to tell me about their day and ask about mine. They usually talk about everything and no topic is off-limits. I usually sit and listen.

Today, one of them came and sat on THE chair and told me that she’s planning to join a martial arts class! I asked her if she was planning to break concrete with her bare hands. She seemed offended by my innocent question and sat straight on the chair before commencing to lecture me on the beauty and nobility of martial arts! I noted the seriousness in her voice and attempted to lighten the mood a little by making a Bruce Lee sound. ‘Why are you growling at me?’ She asked.
‘I’m making a Bruce Lee sound’ I said.
‘Bruce Lee was not about sounds and movements alone’ she said ‘he was a master of his art, fast, controlled and strong’ she continued.

I growled some more and pretended to break some invisible concrete with my powerful wrists.

‘You have gay wrists’ she said.
‘What?’ I asked. ‘Gay wrists’ she repeated.
‘You mean girly?’ I asked. ‘No. Gay’ she replied.
‘What do gay wrists look like?’ I asked.
‘Yours are the only gay wrists I’ve seen’ she said ‘so I can’t really give you any other examples’ she added.
‘You are lucky we don’t have any gay people in this office or they would be offended’ I said.
‘How do you know that we don’t?’ she asked.
‘I don’t know, but I doubt if we did’ I said.
‘Do you have a problem with gay people’ she asked whilst giving me an accusing look.
‘No I don’t’ I replied. ‘Besides, you’re the one that brought up the gay story’ I added.
‘They have signals you know’ she said.
‘Who does?’ I asked.
‘Gay people’ she said.
‘What sort of signals?’ I asked.
‘I don’t know. Signals to know each other by’ she said.
‘Aha’ I said.
‘Exactly’ she said.
‘Has this got anything to do with my gay wrists?’ I asked
‘No, that’s a different type of gay’ she said.
‘Are there different kinds of gay?’ I asked.
‘Never mind. Want a cup of tea?’ she enquired.
‘No thanks I had one already’ I said.
She left the room and five minutes later the other lady came and sat on THE chair. We talked about recycling and how it became her new hobby. That topic led us to the topic of rubbish collection and from there we went on to compare our local councils then we moved on to the politics of the London Mayor. Just as we reached South American politics my phone started ringing and she quietly crept out of the room.

Later on, on my way back from lunch I got on a bus and went to sit at the back. There were two people sat there, a half naked woman and a guy with very dark sunglasses. They both ignored me as I took a seat next to them. I started daydreaming.

While I was lost in my thoughts, a young man in a suit came and sat opposite me (it was a double-decker bus). I noticed him and thought it strange that he would choose to sit opposite me when half of the rest of the bus was empty. But he was a man in a suit and I had no reason to be suspicious (unless he was a salesman of course).

I went back to my daydreaming when I suddenly felt a gentle kick on my right foot! I assumed it was accidental and paid him no attention. He kicked me again! I looked up at him to gratefully receive his likely apology but none was forthcoming, he wasn’t even looking at me! He was looking at my foot and carrying on with his gentle kicks. I looked around to see if my fellow passengers had noticed anything. They did. Both gave me a look that said ‘what the hell is he kicking your foot for and why are you letting him?’

I wasn’t sure how to react. I knew that, naturally, this kicking should stop. If I was there on my own with no onlookers I probably would have let him carry on until he got bored, his weak kicks didn’t hurt. But now that I had spectators and they were judging me. My image had to take precedence over his fun.

I sat and watched him swinging his foot about and ending the swing with a kick. I looked at his face and saw that he was concentrating very hard on what he was doing. It was as if he was expecting petrol to gush out from my shiny designer shoes. I allowed him to swing and kick me twice and then, just as he was about to make the third kick, I pulled my foot out of the way. That seemed to get him out of his trance and he looked up at me! This man had BIG eyes and he pointed these floodlights of his squarely at my face. He gave me a look as if to say ‘why did you take your foot out of the way?’ I tried to look away but he was still staring.

It’s true that right there and then I was in a real petulant mood and was likely to start an argument with this guy. It was MY foot that he was kicking after all! But, just when I decided to narrow my eyes at him and growl like Bruce Lee, I remembered the conversation I had that morning! Could it be that this guy is gay and this was the signal that my colleague was talking about? Narrowing my eyes and growling at a man that’s giving me signals suddenly seemed like a very bad idea!

Those searching floodlights were still looking at me. I decided to pretend that he was not there. Give him the silent treatment thought I. Then I remembered that silence is a sign of consent. I almost growled in horror.

‘Are you ok?’ he asked.‘Ok! You’ve been kicking me for the past five minutes’ I thought. I didn’t reply. Instead I just nodded and smiled back at him while inwardly making a Bruce Lee growl. He nodded and smiled back at me. Was that another signal? I couldn’t really tell because the bus had reached my stop and I had to get off, man.