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"What happens on the blacktop? Describe your favorite memory of an unofficial game."
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Perhaps the most stupid of my many mistakes, ill thought-through, though for a split second the appeal was too great to be ignored. A bet.
Two hockey sticks, four skates, three mailboxes, an irrelevant, giant pile of dog crap. And, finally, a little orange ball.
The bet:
"If I can get the ball down between the two mailboxes, two streets over, four times-- starting from a certain point each time, you have to buy me Silent Hill 2. If you win, I'll rake the entire yard."
I must've been sure that I'd win, seeing as how raking the entire yard in the late winter was a fool's task.
Especially with my cold. Not that I was being lazy, but the yard you could see was three acres, five if you included the parts thick with trees. Besides, I was supposed to be babysitting in thirty minutes-- and I was sick with what I could only hope was a headcold.
But, all the same, he was totally up for it.
Not to mention, I hadn't been on skates in some time, and he was twice my size.
Onto the enduring childhood memory.
Head collisions-- not fun.
He can't turn, but the little orange ball is right there. Of course, he didn't budge, but I fell. Count the bruises.
And he's gone with the ball.
I'm getting up, already racing after him.
You can guess who won.
But I got the better deal.
My real job saved me from raking, and after that calls on 'Bring Miko Home' saved me from further humiliation.
A very skillful guilt trip won me SH2.
 X x __ compos M E N T i S · Tue Apr 28, 2009 @ 03:03am · 0 Comments |
