I live next door to a former school.  A few years before I moved here, it was an elementary school, but it closed down due to a shortage of kids (!) and is now a community centre.  Because of this, I wake up every Saturday morning to an aerobics class blaring outside of my window, and I'm kept up Friday nights by the high school bands that play in the gymnasium.

Wednesdays and thursdays are Volleyball nights, where a bunch of pseudo athletics in cargo shorts hit a ball around while old songs from the late nineties/early milennium play on.  I fully expect to hear these volleyballeurs to utter colloquialisms such as "rad", "gnarly", and "Far out".    And I bet they're all named "Gneech". 

The best times, though, are when I can look out my window and watch the outdoor martial arts people.  I enjoy watching because it makes me feel a helluva lot tougher than I actually am.  There's nothing quite like watching doughy men playing with bo staffs (poorly) to make yourself feel like an absolute winner.  And it's just as enjoyable watching women trying to learn self defence moves half-heartedly, not fulling committing to the fact that a large man is coming at them with a fist.

(Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against self-defence classes, especially for women;  this class, though, is just pathetic in how it is taught and arranged). 

The best part is at the end of the class, when the instructor tells them how good they are.  "You're really learning;  make sure you go home and practice!"  Which makes me wonder, exactly, how one goes about practicing for a self defence class. 

I can just imagine the 911 calls. 

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