So I’m researching for a romantic comedy I’m writing, and need to know some real self-defense techniques for my made-up hero and heroine. Even though my heroine has seven (count ’em) Chihuahuas to defend her honor, she has to interact with the Hunk as often as possible. Thus, she enrolls in self-defense class.
I pull up a video where a foxy, petite woman is demonstrating the proper technique to escape should someone decide to walk up and begin choking you. Happens every day, I’m sure. The first thing the Petite Fox instructs me to do is to bend my knees. She says it’s so one can create a good center of gravity, but in my mind the Hunk thinks she’s having abdominal pains. “Are you OK?” He whispers. Her knees are killing her by now so she hisses, “Just get on with it.”
Then the video Fox instructs, “Put your chin down, so you can breathe a little.” I’m thinking, the guy is choking me for crying out loud. How can I breathe? Besides, when I put down my head like that, all my double chins are highlighted in a terrible way.
“Now,” the Fox says, “Twist sharply to your left. This will alter his grip.” If I’m being choked by a man, at this point I am one hundred percent sure I no longer remember right from left. And is it the video chick’s left or my left? But I will allow my heroine to twist. She would shout but she’s being choked at the present time.
Here’s where it gets interesting. Fox demonstrates while she talks. “Put your right hand in the air (here we go again) and pull it down like you’d pull down on a subway strap. Really? We have no subways in Oregon. Maybe I can pretend it’s like trying to pull seven Chihuahuas off the top of my refrigerator. Up to now, this video has given my poor character rope burns on her throat as her attacker (aka the Hunk) watches her do a Chubby Checker imitation. But she wins, because the next move is awesome: Ball up your fist and give him a side hammer strike in the temple. She doesn’t care which temple, either. Now that’s romance.