Father of three, Dave Smith, sat in a Winking Lizard Tavern™ with four of his co-workers last week. After a hearty serving of hot wings and some local beers that Dave described as “crisp…but not too crisp…” Dave launched into a story of his softball game two days earlier.
“It was crazy guys,” Dave exclaimed as his friends rolled their eyes and ordered some more alcohols. “It was so intense this week. I think I pulled a hamquad,” Dave explained, making up muscle groups as he went along.
“This is your 50+, one night a week, slow pitch league, correct?” Asked Steven, a friend of Dave’s who had had it up to HERE with Dave’s bullshit.
“Yea, but its professional like intensity,” Dave continued as Steven started imagining ways to kill Dave with a drink menu. “I’m telling you guys I don’t know how I do it. I’m in the best shape of my life. I owe it all to the league. I’d tell you guys to join me but I don’t know if you could handle it.”
It was then that Steven finally snapped and began attempting to slice Dave’s throat with The Winking Lizard Tavern™’s drink menu. Dave, upset and also even more upset, received the memo loud and clear. He got up to leave. “I guess I’ve struck out,” Dave said somberly as he left the table. A single tear rolled down his cheek.
“Dave, wait!” His friends called out. Dave turned around. “You owe us $12.50 for the wings!”
-Maddie Gottfried, Contributor