Christos described spending some time sponge diving in the Aegean Sea. An outstanding memory of his was one friend pleading with him to come with him, aboard another friend’s sailboat. Christos had little sailing experience, but was a strong swimmer. More importantly, he is “a competent man.” The owner/captain of the sailboat “was an idiot.” Food and drink ran out. It fell to Christos to organize a landing for dinner. On two occasions the idiot captain sought to drop anchor in a harbor. On the first he failed and sailed on.
On the second, looking to get in next to a large Turkish vessel, the captain insists on dropping anchor in the opposite orientation as every other sailing vessel. Sure enough, he tangled anchor cable with the Turkish ship, whose numerous sailors became agitated. Christos dove in with a rope to salvage the anchor. He had to call back up for goggles. Now able to see in this murkier than usual Aegean water, he tied the anchor anew, lifted it, cut the original cable and swam back up. He pointed to the rope on the wall, a trophy he kept from his experience as a competent non-expert man.
…
Another example of competence outside of expert status was racing motorcycles from North Carolina to Tennessee along a notorious highway. He came up behind his partner, whose bike was over the mountain and leg was cleanly broken, the bones protruding. He had been grazed head-on by another rider, who smacked into the mountain and, “Was fucking dead! His head was pointed the wrong way.”
He rode to where he had reception and called in an ambulance, “They took him up to the lake and medivaced him out.” In the mean time, a lady doctor drove by, stopped and offered to help. Rather than help with the mangled rider, she insisted on checking the condition of the other driver. Christos said, “Lady, he’s fucking dead.”
“Are you sure? How can you know?”
“Lady, I’ve seen dead people—that dude is fucking dead!”
She spends some time using her advanced medical observation and examination skills to determine that a man with his head on backwards is indeed dead.
…
As a private delivery driver Christos had one large location of buildings that were all stocked by the same developer with segregated renters: Indians in one, Mexicans in another, Chinese in another, Middle Easterners in one, and Africans in their own abode. He delivered many high quality phones to people living in empty apartments. Some of these were obvious terror cells, lone men, living on grappling mats, in great shape, just ordering phones.
Christos had numerous dog encounters. He always operated from the standpoint of strength, that “No dog is going to kick my ass!”
He walked one package in to a man, past his attack dog, which sat timidly in Christos’ presence. The man asks, “Are you a dog whisperer?’
“No.”
“Nobody ever walks past him. What is your secret?”
Christos looks at the dog, the dog nodding in agreement, “Because that dog knows I will kick his ass.”
One dog saw Christos coming from across a farm stead and started a baleful charge, roaring around the house, circling wide and charging on. Christos looks at the distant dog and agrees to the terms of combat, “Alright, buddy, we’re settling this right now,” and starts charging the dog. The dog notes this turn of simian events, stops, howls in fear, and runs off, howling that the devil is on his hind quarters!
Christos has a collection of dog photos and videos, of dogs boarding his truck, electing him their new master, and not wanting to return home. He took selfies with dogs. He is literally The King of Dogs.
Once he was delivering packages at the segregated rich refugee compound when he sees a foolish man with two pitbulls. One has gotten loose and was mauling a black lady, who was screaming as it bit her face. He grabs the offending dog, wraps it up in a rear naked choke, and tells the lady, “Miss, get in my van.”
He then looks to the man, who is having a hard time controlling the other dog, which wanted to also eat the lady, and says, “I’m choking this dog out. He will be okay. I just need you to control that one.”
The dog owner does not listen and the dog gets loose. The black lady does not listen and is feasted upon anew. Christos says, “Well fuck it, then, get eaten, get sued.” He leaves the choked-out dog lie and delivers his packages.
While delivering more packages later, a black female U.S. Postal Carrier stops him and says, “You are the hero that saved that woman’s life!”
“Oh, I don’t think she was actually going to get killed.”
There was one dog that was on the other side of a barrier, that Christos had a conversation with. He came to the conclusion, that “That dog was fucking insane,” and said, “You have a fucking problem,” and left the dog alone, without risking an encounter.
…
Christos is highly critical of how some schools handle their BJJ programs, letting male coaches and professors date their students. “BJJ is too close to sex to begin with. The women will call you. You have to be able to say no. I will not teach at a school that has instructors putting their dicks in the students. That is bad news, a sign of moral incompetence.”
…
His advice for those men who remain celibate due to their desire to find an ideal female mind that agrees with their morality and politics is that such hopes are not only foolish, but unnecessary. Once you are providing the dick, you become the focus of her world. Her views will naturally begin to fall into sync with yours. You can fix it all by being a fighter. Women love fighters. Just keep the chuavenistic stuff to a minimum around her.”
