The Axe Was Not the Problem

August thirtieth. The problem, Simone said, is that people overthink it. You just throw. It's basically darts. She said this with the full confidence of someone who had also never done it before, and I want that on the record.

We had been talking about doing something neither of us had done since, I checked my messages to confirm this, early March, which is to say before the world rearranged itself and the list of available things shrank down to whatever fit inside a delivery window or a six-foot radius. The axe-throwing place near the east side had reopened with reduced capacity and a booking system, and Simone sent me the link on a Tuesday night with no preamble, just: Saturday? I said yes before I'd finished reading the page.

Here is what I can report: it is not basically darts. The axe is heavier than you expect. The target is farther than it looks. My first four throws hit the wall to the left of the board, which the staff member, extremely patient, clearly accustomed to this, described as 'finding your angle.' My fifth throw hit the outer ring and stuck, and I turned around with both hands up in a gesture I had not planned, and Simone was already laughing with her hand on my shoulder, and the staff member got a photo of it, and that is the image.

the axe hit the board exactly once and the reaction was disproportionate

The axe is still in the board in the shot. I made them take a close-up as documentation.

evidence

We walked back to the bus stop afterward and Simone said it was better than she'd expected, which from Simone is a substantial review. I told her she'd said it would be easy. She said she'd said it would be simple, which is different. I don't think it's different. Gerald's vine is still on the kitchen shelf where I left it this morning, and I came home and stood in the kitchen for a minute before I remembered I hadn't eaten lunch, which felt like the most normal thing that has happened in months. That's the whole post. One axe, one ring, one disproportionate reaction. August, doing its thing.