November 28, 2005
Please don't ask me to play tennis with you. Please.
In the past ten days I have been asked THREE TIMES to engage in somehing so scary, it boggles the mind.
TENNIS. So! Scary!
At Stitch 'n Bitch last week, Jennifer asked if I wanted to play tennis with her, then a girl at work asked if I wanted to try out the practice courts downtown, and this morning -- out of the blue -- my boss said that when the new downtown gym opens, maybe we should all play tennis.
"Like a doubles tournament ... artists versus MBAs!" he said. Laughed.
And I said, "Or maybe we could all walk up and down Broadway and 6th Street at dusk and have a ho-off, because that's about as plausible as me playing tennis!"
Because me + sports = REALLY BAD NEWS.
I suck at sports. No, really. I SUCK AT SPORTS. When I was in the 7th grade, my parents had to go down to the school and meet with the principal and a conselor and a coach because me, their straight-A overachiever child was failing VOLLEYBALL.
And ya'll, who fails volleyball? There are people who cannot even spell their first name but can play some mean volleyball. And by the way ... my parents tell this story. To strangers. And dinner guests. They LOVE to tell this story. It usually starts with me talking about how smart I am, and ends with them saying, "Oh she's smart all right, remember that time we had to go to school because she was failing VOLLEYBALL? And we had to tell the principal how she was gifted and couldn't possibly fail VOLLEYBALL?" and my brothers are all, "Yeah, by GIFTED they mean you're a dumbass! Who can't play volleyball!"
Anyway, so I'm not the sportiest girl on the planet.
But I tend to forget this from time to time. I forget I'm a sports reject, and I think, "Maybe, since I'm older and wiser now and have grown as a person, I am probably also more mature and therefore able to play sports." And then I go and try some activity and fail, and then I drink. And whatdoyouknow in a few years I have drunk so much and matured so much that I completely forget I am bad at sports and try something new.
One time my parents took me and my brothers to this fancy country club in Louisiana and my parents, who should be PROTECTING and LOVING us, sent us out on the practice course with some golf clubs and a few buckets of golf balls so they could go have a cocktail and visit with other adults and they returned to find all three of us, shrieking, running buckwild crazy on the putting green and throwing golf balls at each other.
And ya'll, golf balls hurt. So it's important to aim low and throw hard.
And my parents are all GET IN THE CAR RIGHT NOW YA'LL ARE EMBARRASSING US. My brothers learned to straighten up and fly right and eventually went on to be great golfers and earn trophies and stuff. And me? I ALMOST FAILED VOLLEYBALL.
But that is not important. Because I am older and wiser and more mature and have had complex wines with names I cannot pronounce and so, you know, I'm probably better at sports now. Ha ha! Fooled you! No way am I doing any sports. I'm going to knit. And drink.
So please for the love of God stop inviting me to play tennis. I might drink so much I take you up on it. And I hear tennis balls can hurt... if you aim low enough and throw real hard.
Posted by laurie at November 28, 2005 9:44 AM