Where did the poles go?

One day Mike brought some poles to class. He was going to teach some kind of pole drills. The poles were beautiful. About 6 feet long and 2 or 3 inches around. The wood was heavy and dark. They fit perfectly in the hands. The poles would be great for working out because they were so heavy.

Mike showed us some drills. Nothing fancy. Basically some strengthening drills. Holding the pole down low in front of us, then bringing it up to chest level while holding it level. It was a difficult exercise because of the weight and length of the poles. They wanted to dip at the far end.

Then he showed us some drills about punching or striking with the poles. The idea was to poke the pole straight forward into some small area. We did it in the air for practice. You could do it with a ball tied on a rope or maybe a poke the pole through a hoop that was mounted on something.

I liked the drill and I thought the poles were the greatest. I had watched various movies with guys using poles. They always looked exciting. I would be happy to learn how to use a pole like that.

Mike brought the poles to class a couple of times. Different people would borrow them to practice at home. Because I always kept quiet, everyone else was taking the poles home to practice with. After awhile everyone had taken the poles home at least once. I figured it was about time I had a turn. I asked to take one home and it was no problem.


That was a day that I walked to the class. That meant I had to walk back to the house with the pole. I didn't think anything of it. I was a kung fu guy with the pole I was taking home to practice with. I was dressed in black pants and a white shirt that sort of looked like a kung fu outfit.

By the time I began to walk home, it was late in the afternoon. It was hot and the park was full of people. I am obliviously walking down the sidewalk with this big six foot pole. I thought nothing of it. In the city I live in, you see everything. I mean everything. I didn't stand out at all in my own mind.

I think I must have been on the receiving end of a few looks. I never saw a one because in my head what I was doing was completely normal behavior. I had a pole. I had to walk home. I was walking home with the pole.


I approach a bench with a bunch of guys sitting on it. What happens next is not what you think is going to happen. They did not jump up and challenge me to a fight. They did not say "tough guy" or any other aggressive fighting situation where I got to heroically defend myself with the pole.

You want to know what happened? One of the guys says "I want you to hit me with your pole". He was serious. He was a gay guy and all the guys on the bench were gay.

I just kept walking. I was naive then. To hear an adult man say out loud that he wanted an S & M beating from a stranger walking down the street with a stick was shocking. Mentally shocking. I think if they had tried to beat me up, I would not have reacted much at all. I would have expected or been used to that. But that crazy comment? Wow. I was mentally messed up all the way home.


I practice with the pole for the next week or two. Then I take the pole back to class. When I got there I sat it down on the ground with some other stuff. Anyone who wanted to use it was free to pick it up. I had borrowed it and returned it as far as I was conconcerned. We finished practice that day and went home.


The next week people are asking "Where is the pole". No one can find the pole. People are talking amongst each other about who borrowed it when etc. I said I had borrowed it but I returned it the previous week. Everyone is looking at me. It really felt like persecution. I don't know if they thought I was lying so I could keep the pole or what.

I started to get resentful. I repeated that I know for a fact that I returned the pole and I layed it down on the ground. I never looked at it again.

At this point it is becoming obvious the pole is gone. That is something. The pole belongs to Mike. He brought it from Hong Kong. He allowed us to use it to practice with and now it is gone? Because no one in this group of adults was responsible enough to keep track of it.

They all begin to look at me. As if it is my fault the pole is gone. What can I say? I borrowed it and I returned it to the class in the community property area. I expected one of the other students to take it to borrow it, or to return it to Mike, or for Mike himself to take it.

By this time, after a year or more in class, it was accepted that I was the low man on the totem pole. I was the guy who did not talk much with the health problems. The guy who was not really friendly. It was easy to pick me out especially since I had the pole the previous week.

I still don't know what to say about the situation. Should I have followed Mike or someone else to make sure they picked up the pole? From my perspective, I was low man on the totem pole. If even I could take the pole and return it to the community property area, demonstrating my responsibility, surely the guys who were so much better than me could demonstrate superior responsibility and keep track of the pole.

It was a real shame. That pole was nice. I know that some people in the group were wondering if someone took the pole home and kept it. That was something I should have paid more attention to at the time. If everyone was so wonderful and the group was so great, why would some members suspect other members of stealing a pole?

I think people were careless. I think at the end of class everyone picked up their stuff and expected someone else to get the pole. Then a homeless person or someone came along and picked it up.

But instead of thinking that, some people in class thought another member might have stolen it. I hate to say it but I think James was the prime suspect. After me maybe. James was troublesome. To think he would steal something like that pole? I would never think that in a million years.

Maybe I was naive.