My buddy and I arrived at the bus stop yesterday just as one was pulling up. “All right!” was our mutual sentiment. “High five!” I implored. After we engaged palms in that primal moment, I noted, “Shit; I haven’t done that in years. What a fucking rush!”
Shortly thereafter, I prematurely resumed my push-ups and dips regimen. I fell far short of my usual goal, which is to be expected because of my shoulder injury. It actually feels significantly worse today, but you know what they say: “No pain, no long-term injury.”
Penn State is huge where I’m from, but I can actually relate to it as if it were an academic institution because I briefly taught at one of their satellite campuses. When I saw I guy all decked out in their gear–a relative rarity in Maryland–I heartily said, “Go Lions!” We then briefly discussed their football program’s progress. Non-tennis sports talk is rare for me, but it made me feel like a “normal” man. Go Brian!
Later, I’m quite sure I saw a very pretty girl checking me out in a carnal manner. “I could hit that,” I thought, but I was on my way to play ping pong. I don’t play that much anymore because of the dearth of competition, but I was on fire!
I later decided to get me a beer. I walked into the store to find myself singing along to Cher’s “Gypsies Tramps and Thief’s” as it played on the store’s satellite station. Some guy with a Ravens hat, an Orioles shirt, with two kids in tow looked at me very oddly. At that moment, I realized I didn’t deserve a beer. I bought wine coolers instead.