Dana White, King of MMA

girlfriend at the time was visiting. Dana had just come out of the shower and had on a
bathrobe and a pair of my green operating room scrubs. His girlfriend was sitting at
the dining room table and I was in the kitchen (the kitchen was open to the dining
room) when Dana walked over, pulled out one of the chairs at the dining room table,
and sat down. He lifted his leg with the bad toe and placed it on the chair next to the
one his girlfriend was sitting in. Her mouth opened and she had this awful look on her
face as she pointed to Dana’s foot. She had not seen Dana’s foot since they had
removed most of his toenail, and so Dana thought she was horrified by its appearance.
For what seemed like an entire minute, she just kept pointing at his foot. Not a word
came out of her mouth. Dana finally leaned forward and looked down at what she was
pointing at.
I didn’t know at that point what he had seen, but like a rocket, Dana came up
out of the chair, tearing off the bathrobe and jumping around the dining room. He
was kicking his leg in the air and jumping around the room like an Irish step dancer as
he tried to untie the waist belt of the O.R. scrubs he was wearing. I was laughing so
hard I could hardly move until his girlfriend told me it was a black widow walking up
his pant leg. I began screaming at Dana to run outside and not knock the spider off in
the house, but by that point, he was already kicking the pants off his leg and high into
the air. The pants landed on the floor in the dining room, and I ran over to see if the
spider was still on the pants. It was not. It was now loose in the house somewhere.
We searched for ten minutes and could not find the black widow anywhere. I did find
it a week later. The spider was huge and had built a web between the refrigerator
and the kitchen cabinets. I killed it. I can honestly say the dancers in “The Lord of the
Dance” do not jump or kick as high as Dana did when he saw that spider on his pants.
About this time, I thought Dana was becoming inconsiderate of others and taking
on an air about himself that I did not care for. We were middle class working people
just like most other people. Although we perhaps had a little more than a lot of
others, that was only because I worked eighty to a hundred hours a week to afford it.
I used to take vacation time on occasion to travel to Mexico with medical teams
out of Texas and Las Vegas to do surgery on mostly children with cleft lips and cleft
palates. The Indians in the mountains had no access to medical care, and they had a