Like pro wrestling's Sting, I think it's quickly becoming my new trademark to always have my beatin' stick on hand. Naturally, it's more to point menacingly at folks than anything else, but I can think of far worse things to be known for. I'm already semi-known for always carrying one of those around in my truck (and occasionally using either it or my bokken to "maintain order" for some of the semester-long Engineering projects up at 'Bama). This just kind of cements the deal. Ah well, at least it's just a gimmick for the time being, not a nickname like "Pocky" or "Fanta"...
See, one weekend, I buy some super hi-bounce balls out of sheer boredom while waiting for friends to check out at a store. Said friends notice and gleefully join in. We get the idea to cause much destruction with them at the Anime club later that night, and eventually we find ourselves in the parking lot, launching them into high orbit with an aluminum baseball bat. (Better than throwing and bouncing them inside, I suppose). The next weekend, I end up walking around the club with a club for another reason. Sporting equiptment was borrowed, and returned during the meeting. And with me always feeling the need to fidget with something, the bat ended up being pointed and swung at many people and objects that night.
That happened to be the night where we were all asked to stand up, say our names and how we found out about the club, and what our favorite series were. The big, scruffy-looking Redneck in the back already stood out somewhat, aside just from making his usual sarcastic comments. When the introductions started, someone mentioned that Sailor Moon was their first Anime, and the room went silent, everyone seemingly unimpressed. Naturally, I couldn't have that, so I stood up and "whoooooo'ed" and cheered like the Tide just scored a touchdown. Apparently the n00bs didn't take me seriously. Then my turn came around. Emily, Tiff, and Nichole even gave me a semi-intro of their own, saying that "Next up is the club's resident Redneck Otaku, Russ!" Or something like that. Anyways, I stand up, still holding the bat, and say how I'm Russ a.k.a. Nash and I just kind of wandered in there one day. No one brought me - I just decided to show up one day and ain't nobody run me off yet. I confess, with little shame, that Sailor Moon was the series that started my Anime fandom...and everyone who didn't know me looked at me with the same look that a cow gives an oncoming train. The words just didn't seem to process in their heads. Some of the ones that did know me looked like they were about to snicker at my awkward pause, and doing the only thing I knew to do, I pulled a Sting - I hopped up on a chair and pointed the bat at everyone menacingly, making verbal threats to anyone who dared to laugh at me for loving that show. Which, of course, everyone did loudly and in unison. The strange tension broken, we laughed and cut up and everything kind of went on from there.
Not a bad toy to have on hand, though, as for a couple of times after that, there's been some random bits of drama here and there, as there so often is. Me and James already jokingly call ourselves the unofficial Miso Bouncers, as if that were an Officer position or something...now we just look the part. James a little too much so; last weekend, without thinking he pointed at someone and called out "Hey, YOU!" He happened to be carrying my bat at the time, and I think it scared ten years off of that kid's natural life span! We all died laughing before talking him into saying he's sorry, as not to truly freak the guy out. XD
And somehow, that one prop just seems to keep popping up. Like tonight, I had to pull it out from under my truck seat so I could dig around under there, looking for a flashlight...I was just getting it out of my way, but they caught me pulling it out and all seemed to get a laugh out of it. *chuckles*
But yeah. Miso tomorrow. And come hell or high water, I'll be there.
Sorry for the tangental rant, but tonight I came close to going to my truck, taking said bat and burying it a few inches deep in some guy's skull. One of those loathsome "prep hicks" (which Robby has officially dubbed "pricks"). No real story, other than he looked like he was about to start something with me, and that wouldn't have been too good an idea if he was concerned with his health. Subtly kept my eye on him for a while to see who he was, what's his problem and so forth, but by the end of the night just ended up giving him the Outlaw Staredown and making him look stupid in front of his girlfriend. James took the long way across the room just to walk past their table, revved his bike up real loud in the parking lot, and seemed to have some fun with the twerp too. We had our laughs at his expense, especially how he was rolling up his shirt sleeve and apparently bragging about running us off after we finished our meal and left. Heh, whatever, little man...