I [M] drove past neat little rows of farm houses decorated with countless lights and inflatable Santas, snowmen, and penguins for Christmas.
With the radio on near mute, the steady, quiet hum of the engine, and the periodic splash of wet snow parted by my tires in the background, my mind raced with many new questions. How many people living in these houses were doing the same thing I was doing that night? How many were expecting someone like me for the same sort of thing? Was what I doing in any way normal and if not, how rare was it? My eyes were opening up to a whole new hidden world that seemed to exist just behind the picturesque, lit up streets of small towns. As a lifelong resident of big cities, this simply never occurred to me before.
Finally coming to a stop in front of a small, colonial style house, I turned off the car and took stock of the situation. Aside from the dim lights in “Matt” and “Lynda’s” house, it was dark and empty, almost eerily so. What the hell was I doing here? What would be waiting for me inside? My mind raced trying to recall the several MMA moves that were taught to me by a friend, though after taking real classes and managing to get enough practice, looking back at it, I would’ve been lucky to have landed a hit back in the day…