Stop fucking with me. Do you want to learn martial arts, or not? That’s what I thought, so stop talking back. That, that right there, that’s what I’m talking about. You’re the student, I’m the instructor. That means I’m going to critique you and boss you around. It comes with the territory, but I’m a good teacher with no ego, so I’m not going to be a dick about it. Stop fighting me. And stop almost punching me in the face when I hold up a target in front of my chest, then try to justify it by saying that I told you to “aim for the chin.” YOUR chin. In the MIRROR. When you’re PRACTICING. Do I really need to tell you not to punch me in the face? I do? Fuck.
FYI, we’re not doing that again. Next time you’re in class, and I tell you to slow down, you’re going to slow the fuck down. Because you’re not doing it right, Adult White Male. You’re doing it wrong, and I’m trying to fix that, but your giant sense of privilege and big fat head are getting in the way.
Come to learn, or don’t come at all. There’s a reason I’m the instructor, and you’re not. Everyone gets that except you. Your attitude is boring and trite. Get over yourself. Being better than most of the class is not the equivalent of being good. Your technique is sloppy and rushed. You’re the worst kind of noob: the kind that thinks he’s not a noob. But you are. You are a giant noob with a big problem taking instruction. Get over it, or don’t enter the dojo at all.
Frankly,
Skilled Female Sensei