Wednesday, August 8, 2012

It Was A "Distraction Technique".... Yeah....

I know I haven't written anything this week. I've been in recert, or re-certification training and all I have had to say so far was "I sat in an overly warm classroom and spent the entire day trying to stay awake."

Nothing against the trainers or the material. They were good for the most part and the material was good, for the most part. Even though I have heard the same thing every year for nine years now.

It's just getting up so per-snarking early in the morning and then sitting in a warm classroom that's been killing me. I have been on evening shift for nine years and getting up early is against my nature.

If they would do the classes from 3:30 in the afternoon until 11:30 at night I would be there wide eyed and bushy tailed.

But not at 7 freaking 30 in the morning. Nossir.

Today was Defensive Tactics.

That's the class where we practice beating each other up. We get to use different holds and throws and escape maneuvers to simulate either getting away from an unruly inmate or subdue one, depending on the circumstance.

It's usually fun, but it does tend to be a bit painful at times. Especially on us older folk.

In this class they teach us to use "distraction techniques", which are punches and blows and kicks and jabs designed to move an attacker's focus away from hurting you to defending himself. Grabbing the ribs, poking the eyes, raking the shins with the side of your boot, stomping on their feet. All that stuff is useful.

We simulate those in the classroom setting, of course.

Anyway, I had Big Muppet as my partner and we were practicing defense against a kick. I was being the aggressor and as I raised my foot to kick the whole classroom heard this loud "Rip!"

At first I thought it might be my hip and I braced myself to be in some serious pain. Then I felt this cool unaccustomed breeze across my nether regions and knew that sound came from a different but closely related source.

There were a few screeches and alot of giggling, as you can well imagine.

Luckily for me, Watcher was one of the instructors and as I pulled my t-shirt down to preserve the shreds of my modesty, he led me back into the E-Squad room and let me borrow an extra pair of BDU's.

It took me years and a bit of embarrassment, but I finally managed to get into Watcher's pants. (grin) It was worth it.

It's a good thing I'm going on vacation in a couple of weeks. That will hopefully give time for the jokes to die down. I am sure that even now there is an account of that circulating throughout the camp. **sigh** Ah, well.

And I am sure there will be an irate memo from the Major sent around instructing everyone that they must from this day forward wear underwear to recert classes. I'll be wearing some tomorrow, believe me.

If nothing else, I can always serve as the guy they can point to and say "Don't do what he does!"


  1. When I worked security at the salt mine, I had to go to safety training once a year. It was eight hours and I had to AFTER I worked the night shift. Yep, fun times...

    1. I feel like I've told you this before.

    2. Bryan- You have. And I've written about how bored I was in training for the last three years, so we can call it even.

  2. A friend of mine still hasn't lived down tearing his pants ona berry picking trip revealing the mole on his posterior to all the ladies behind him.

    1. Anon- Things like that tend to help you remember for some reason.

  3. I am certainly looking forward to seeing your bushy tail at 3:30. ;> For the most part any tail is good. Wait did I just say that?

    1. Tilt- Yes you did.

      And strangely, I'm not all that surprised.