Day 93: Anger Management Course

Tony raised his right fist back and swung it forward with a force that made his muscles quiver. The punching bag jerked back and forth into the air as Tony swiftly threw punch after punch.  His teeth were gritted, and he grunted with each time his fist made impact with the black bag.

“Good!” Larry Reynolds cheered.  “Now, focus.  Think about every situation you’ve had this week that has made you mad.  Channel all of that pent-up anger and frustration into your punches.  Imagine that you’re punching every person that has upset you.”

Tony smirked and punched harder as he imagined the punching bag to have a balding head with a bad comb-over and wearing silver-rimmed circular glasses, just like what his anger management instructor was wearing.  Whoosh!  A punch for all the ludicrous rules that were supposed to bring across healing but only made him feel more like he was participating in a three-ring circus.  Another one for all the hours he had poured into attending this irritating course and having no results to show for it.  And again for being forced to put up with all the adversities in his life right now.  He was sick of life and sick of everything.  Then the punching bag morphed into that man with the annoyingly high-pitched voice that sat next to him who claimed to know more about how to survive in the class, even though this was his fourth enrollment.  Then the obnoxious voice transformed into his former boss, whose fault it was in the first place for him having to attend this stupid course. 

He gave the bag one last swing and steadied it from shaking.  He was breathing heavily. 

“Excellent job, Tony!” the instructor clapped.  “Don’t you feel better?  By taking the time to channel your anger like this, you less likely to lash out at people when you’re angry.”

Tony rolled his eyes as he walked past “Professor” and slumped back down in his seat, a few drops of sweat dripping from his forehead.

Ever since he was a boy, Tony had possessed a habit of calling people by nicknames, which were usually insulting.  This preference usually got him into trouble, usually with his mother or teachers.  Tony eventually came to the conclusion that his nicknames weren’t worth the trouble they caused.  He decided to keep the names in his head.

Jerry, the resident anger management expert, laughed.  “You beat that thing to death!”

Tony didn’t answer, hoping “Squeaky” would take the hint and shut up.  Sadly, Jerry wasn’t the brightest car on the lot.

“You know, I remember when I did the punching bag thing for the first time.  It was so exhilarating!  I even knocked the bag off the hook.  And the teacher yelled at me for being so reckless, saying I needed to control my anger.  I thought that’s what the punching was for, so I gave him a swing to show how I felt about his advice.”

“You know, Jerry, that’s not a bad idea.  In fact I’m tempted to try that on you if you don’t shut up in another minute!”

Indignation blazed in Jerry’s eyes.  “Are you threatening me?  I swear if you even move a finger I’ll-“

“Hey,” a deep voice warned from behind them.  It was Andrew, a guy who volunteered to be a teacher’s aide during the course.  “Knock it off now, guys.  Aren’t you learning anything in this course?  Anger does not solve any problems.  Both of you walk away for a minute and take some deep breaths to cool off.”

The beginning to my short story I blogged about yesterday.