“there goes your social life”
This morning, after our physical fitness evaluations at the JCC, J attempted to teach me how to play racquetball. He’s so into it he has his own racket, ball, glove and goggles. I had to borrow a racket and a pair of protective eye wear from the front desk. His were all sleek and Matrix-like, and my goggles were scratched and had a stretched-out elastic that went around my head. But that’s neither here nor there.
Sadly, I was not as interested in the sport as J would have liked. I would really like to meet the people who thought sticking a couple of people in a large white box with a ball whizzing past them was a good idea. Sorry, but I don’t like little rubber balls flying at my face — or any part of my body. The idea that I’m supposed to run around this box chasing balls that are bouncing off walls is absurd (and sounds kinda dirty, no?). I tried to get into it for J’s sake, I really did, but I was laughing too hard out of nerves and the absurdity of it all. He got annoyed by my apparent lack of trying, but I did the best I could. Some people are just not meant to do certain things. Me, I’m not meant to be a racquetball player, and I’m OK with that.
