The Day I Stabbed Someone With A Fork

So, I've been doing martial arts for a long time, and this story is from when I was a high school student practicing Karate.  Recently, my former Karate teachers celebrated their 30th year of teaching Karate (Congratulations!!!), and this story, among others, was told at the party.

(Me when I was just a tiny little kid learning to break people's bones.)

It all started when our dojo went down to Nebraska for a Karate seminar.  I got to meet Shihans (the head teachers of their respective dojos) from a couple of different places.  One of these was from Kalamazoo, MI.  I'd never met him before, but I introduced myself and we sat across from each other at a restaurant after the first morning of class.

I was excited- I love doing martial arts, so a few days of nonstop working out, kicking ass, and learning stuff was heaven to me.  So I was a bit wound up.

(I was on cloud 9)

Plus I was hungry.  So I started picking apart my napkin with my fork.  The Shihan from Kalamazoo saw me doing this and must have been amused.  He stuck out his hand and said something to the effect of, "Here, I'll give you something to stab."  But what I heard in my head was, "Please stab me with your fork.  I want to know how it feels."  What a coincidence!  I'd always wondered what it felt like to stab somebody!  Clearly this was a match made in heaven.

But, I'd misjudged other people's intentions before, so I asked him, "Wait, you want me to stab you in the hand with a fork?"  (Just clarifying.  Wouldn't want to get my hopes up for nothing.)  "Go ahead," he replied.  "You're sure?" I asked.  "Go ahead," he repeated. 

Now, I had never met this Shihan before, but I'd heard he was pretty tough.  Maybe this is what they did for entertainment in Kalamazoo?  Well, I thought, how often do I get the opportunity to stab someone with their permission?  (It doesn't happen as often as you might think.)  So I picked up my fork and held it close to the bottom, on the off chance I could actually do some damage to his hand.

(I didn't hold it like that but I can't find a picture on google to match how I held it.)

But wait!  This guy is really tough, I thought.  He is probably used to being stabbed by far stronger people than me.  And I've never stabbed someone with a fork before.  I want to make sure he doesn't think I'm weak.  I'd better stab him 3 times, just to make sure.  So I held the fork tightly and pounded 3 times on his hand.  Wham!  Wham!  Wham! 

I looked at him expectantly.  I was curious- how would he react to being stabbed in the hand with a fork?  His expression flickered a little, but that was all.  Then slowly, very slowly, he pulled his hand back off the table and set it in his lap.

Then he asked me, "OK, now would you like to reciprocate?"  "Nah, man," I said, "I'm good!"  And then I grinned at him.  This was a fun seminar!  I went on to learn lots of things and do lots of martial arts and kick some more ass.  But that instance will forever live on in dojo lore.

(VikingDad and myself at a Nebraska seminar a couple years later.)

And to this day, of all the people I've met either before or after, the Kalamazoo Shihan is the only one who has ever volunteered to get stabbed by me.