Skip to main content

Arm Wrestling a Student

I never expected the night to turn out like this. 
It's not something you expect when you start off going out for a 'quiet drink' before a big day. You don't think you'll end up arm wrestling anyone, and certainly not someone who you don't actually know. 
But this is how I found myself at the end of the night, arm to arm, locked in combat, with a student. A large student at that.
And I'm really not the arm-wrestling type.

I was in Brighton, I was on the planning team of the works summer away day, and I went with the event organiser, another man named Chris.
We agreed on a quiet drink before going back to our rooms to prepare for the next day.
But the plan had changed. Drinks had been drunk, and shots had been consumed.

I stepped out of the toilets and heard Chris, the other Chris, say "He'll do it!" pointing my way.
I looked over and Chris, who was sitting down, looking far too unaffected by the levels of drinks that had been consumed.
What was I going to do?
The students talking to him looked over at me too, hopeful looks in their eyes
"He'll arm wrestle you." Chris confirmed.
They looked hopefully at me, and I found myself saying the words "Yes okay I'll arm wrestle you." like this was a regular thing for me to do. I looked at them all, not knowing who my competitor was to be. Up stepped the biggest if the lot, bigger than me, I fact bigger than anyone else in the bar. a mountain of a man.
It was to be a test of age versus experience, man versus boy, drunk versus drunk. 
The wrestle began. The instant the wrestle began I realised quite how out of my depth I really was, he was very strong. 
Ours hands locked in the middle, in the 12 o'clock position, not moving, I was smiling, but it was taking all my effort to hold it just there, my opponent look unfazed, bored even. 
My tactic had been to win quickly and quietly. This was not going to happen.

Two minutes in and we still hadn't moved. I was clinging onto this position, and he was beginning to waver. If I could just hold on till he got tired.

Another couple of minutes passed, all seemed tense in the bar, probably no one was really watching, but it felt like all eyes were watching.
One of the students mates came over and said, some on lads, I'm going to make this more interesting. and put 50p down on the table for the winner.
Not that interesting then.
I felt like telling him Ray Winstone usually offers better in-play rewards, but they were students, and I was mid arm-wrestle.

Another minute later and my arm was aching, surely I couldn't hold out for much more, I thought about feigning defeat, pretending he'd got the better of me after all, but if come this far,
He let out a gasp, and I pushed his hand onto the table top - I had won! Me! I had won an actual arm wrestle!
That's how i came to be a professional arm-wrestler. Lets not forget that 50p prize money - that's means I had been paid to do it. Okay not that much, but paid all the same. I wont be adding it on my 'skills' on linked in just yet though, that may cheapen the victory.

We shock numbs hands, and I sat down, the victor.
"I was joking" Chris said as I sat down, "I think they were too." he nodded to the students.
They couldn't take victory away from me now though.
I have vowed though never to arm wrestle again. 
The stats do not lie. 1 bout, 1 win - so I remain the undefeated champion of vodka revolution Brighton. 


Popular posts from this blog

James Bond

I was working in an office doing quite a dull job, surrounded by men and women a lot older than me. I was the office junior and token young person. Most of my colleagues were nice, apart from one woman in the next department. She was OK but to my 18-year-old self, she was just so so boring. Her name was Maureen, and whenever she had the chance she used to corner me and talk to me about her daughters, and her allotment and jam-making, and lots of things I had no absolutely no interest in at all, I would always try to make excuses not to talk to her.

One day a new girl started temping in the next department, the same age as me, and really attractive too, apparently she was working for the summer while she was home from university.
Now usually I am a very timid and awkward man, but on this day I saw her on her own at lunchtime in the canteen and decided to go over and sit next to her. I don't know what came over me, maybe it was because the only person I'd had to talk to of my o…

The Cupboard of Doom.

The cupboard of doom. I know what you're thinking, it sounds like a really disappointing Harry Potter story. But is not. 
It's actually the place I most fear in our flat. 
Although perhaps fear is too strong a word. Annoyed by. Irked. Irritated by.  It's like that thing you forget exists, and then you remember and it really irritates you all over again.  It's bloody Piers Morgan. Some people don't like their spooky attic or cobweb filed loft, for me it's the narrow cupboard just to the right of the cupboard under the sink. That's where the food containers and plastic boxes live, and the leftover containers from the Chinese takeaway, waiting patiently for me to open the cupboard door so they can all jump out at me, like a toppling Tupperware tower of terror. It happens every time. I forget until the very moment the door swings open, but then it's already too late, a plastic tsunami engulfs my feet, and I have to spend the next five minutes trying to match up the…