Knipsen - To Punch

When, late one evening, a group of friends and I ended up at somebody’s house - one of the friends’ that is, we weren’t burglarising that night - post-pub drinks were hastily organised and drank, mostly being an arbitrary mixture of anything even vaguely alcoholic from the backs of cupboards and underneath sinks. Most of us were reasonably drunk, and while some were passing out, others were beginning to exhibit a playful longing for violence. There was never any chance of an actual fight, or any malice whatsoever, but nonetheless pain was caused and laughter followed. My Japanese friend said, ‘Let’s punch each other in the leg!’ Of course I agreed, it sounded like the right thing to do. We’d had some drinks, I was starting to drift off, so why not make some bruises for the amusement of others? It’s just a massively toned down gladiatorial bout, where there’s no death, persecution of minorities or honour code to worry about. Within ten seconds, my leg was dead, I’d called him a Japanese bastard and had chickened out of further punchings, hanging my head in shame. I should have been the bigger man and walked away, but instead became cowardly boy who limped home.