Pulling my eyes from her legs, I move up to her white t-shirt. The material is worn and soft
looking, and right in the middle of her chest is a cartoon picture of a hot dog with legs. Below it, in
the script, readsAsk me about my Weiner. Surprised laughter escapes me. I do not get this woman at
all. She wears the most absurd work outfits…ok, not absurd, but not flattering. Then outside of the
office, she’s a Weiner dog slipper, dirty t-shirt-wearing enigma.
The women I’ve dated wouldn’t be caught dead in anything Maya’s worn so far. Except maybe the
leggings. But as she gets closer, I see the little bugs dotting the dark fabric. Jesus, this woman. She’s
so completely herself, it’s a little terrifying. What would it be like to not give a fuck what anyone
thinks of you?
I catch her worried eyes and immediately want to reassure her that everything’s going to be ok.
Except that would mean getting close to her. And I’m not going to do that. It’s a bad idea. I end up
giving her a quick nod, then yank my eyes away to focus on Becca.
“We have some new faces today, so welcome. You are in the right place. This class is all about
reclaiming your power and your sense of safety. By the time we’re done today, you should feel a little
more confident in your ability to handle a sketchy situation. But,” she says, planting her hands on her
hips, “if you come back, then come back again, I can help you become a literal badass.”
Some of the uncomfortable women crack smiles at that. I haven’t seen this version of Becca. At
home, she’s more of a joker. She doesn’t seem to take much seriously. But here, with these women,
she is steely-eyed and focused.
“So today is about getting you over the fear of an attack. When we’re in a dangerous situation, our
bodies can tend to take over. I don’t want that for you. I want your mind to be in control and for you to
develop some instinctive reactions. That’s why these handsome gentlemen are here.” Nick and I smile
and nod, still not sure what the hell we’ve actually signed up for. “We’re going to suit them up and
then give you a chance to beat the hell out of them.”
She laughs evilly at our expressions and throws her hands up placatingly. “Relax, I’m joking.
We’re not really going to wail on you.” She turns to the women. “We’re going to focus on systematic
strikes designed to incapacitate as quickly as possible, so we’re mostly going for the groin, throat,
and eyes today.”
Trading panicked glances with Nick, and with decades of history between us, we smile again,
take a step away from each other, and bolt for the classroom door. Fucking Becca anticipates us and
