Racquetball Game of the Decade

Wednesday I had the game of racquetball with the 39 yr old woman at the gym. Going into this I knew it would not be an easy task. I haven’t touched a tennis racquet since I was in high school. Since it’s been cold outside and I hate sitting on the stationary bike in the basement, I am out of shape. I sweat and take water breaks when I whack off. I put my hand on my wrist and resume when my pulse comes back down to an acceptable level. So Tuesday night I needed to physically prepare myself for the match up. Like a professionally trained athlete I… drank four pitchers of beer, smoked a pack of cigarettes, and consumed 20 mozzarella sticks.

I started playing pool around 10:30. By 10:35 the back of the bar by the pool table smelled like, well, just a lot of stinky farts. It was bad, even for me. Walking around the pool table and lining up the next shot and BAM!, you’d run into this wall of stench that filled your nostrils and put stars in your eyes. The Renter refused to play pool with me and called me Mr. McNasty. I passed out from the fumes. Somebody peed on me.

Wednesday morning I emailed the Renter:

Me: Remember those farts I had last night? Well, I still have them, only they are much worse after eating 20 cheese sticks. And in half an hour I have to participate in a sporting event with a woman who has lovely fake breasts IN AN ENCLOSED AREA. Great.

(Ok, I must warn you, there are going to be a shit load of “u” and “ur” abbreviations in the Renter’s response, but try to bear with them.)

Renter: ok here is what you do, cuz we are going to get u laid. one of us has to have some fun around here. take some TP and using ur pointer finger shove the TP into ur butthole. that should hold for one hour so u dont fart or shit ur pants. but remember to remove the homemade butt plug when u are done. cuz there is nothing more gross then giving a guy a reach around and feeling a big chunk of TP in the guys ass. u could also spray some body spray directly to the area that is causing the odor. the only problem with that is that it might sting if it some of it gets in the asshole. and playing racquet ball with a burning asshole can't be good or pretty. u could ask one of ur female co-workers for a tampon and shove that up there too. i have some with me but u don't have time to come and get one. or to make things even, make her laugh so hard that she pees her pants a little. that way u shitting ur pants wont be so bad cuz she peed her pants. u guys will make a great couple! u know u are thinking on this too much. she is older then u and i'm sure she has gas problems too. she might even be wearing depends. if her ass looks a bit big and puffy she is sporting depends. good luck and let me know how it all goes.

(I think she has officially been hanging out with me for too long.)

20 cheese sticks. I think I’ve mentioned before, in my old age I think I have grown mildly lactose intolerant. I’m not exactly sure what lactose intolerant means, but if I drink eight ounces of chocolate milk I will be farting uncontrollably in an hour and a half, shitting in under two hours, and being kicked out of my parent’s house with my pants still around my ankles shortly thereafter. I have 7 inches and 70 pounds on my dad but it’s hard to fight back when your pants are around your ankles.

Wednesday morning the 20 cheese sticks kicked in. I had farts that were so bad I had to leave my office and go for a cigarette. I actually got down on one knee and said a little prayer hoping that no one would come in to my office. Thankfully no one did. But I still had to try to conquer my flatulence for the hour or so that I was going to be playing racquetball (and trust me, trying to conquer MY flatulence is a waste of time). 11:45 I took a healthy dump and headed off to the gym.

At the gym I changed clothes, glanced at the toilet, but passed on it and went up to the court. 39 was there already hitting the ball against the wall. We warmed up a little bit and started the first game. And wouldn’t you know it, I didn’t have to fart even once. Or maybe it was I didn’t notice that I had to fart AS I WAS GETTING MY ASS WIPED ALL OVER THE COURT!!!

We were going to play three games; loser of two had to buy dinner. As I had predicted, I was going to lose the third game either because 1) the game wouldn’t be necessary to determine a winner or 2) the EMTs wouldn’t let me continue playing after they had to jumpstart my heart twice. The EMTs were not called but I almost wish they had been so I could have slept in a comfortable bed all afternoon.

39 yr old is in good shape and knows her some racquetball. You’d think by now I’d have something cleaver made up for her other than 39 yr old, maybe “gym girl/woman” or “hot broad” or “nice boobs” or “that woman at the gym that I’d really like to fuck but it would have to be either missionary or her on top so I can see her nice boobs bounce,” but I haven’t, so 39 yr old it is. She’s in good shape. While I clomped around the court, bouncing off walls and completely whiffing on more than one occasion, she nimbly covered the court and hit the ball with confidence. I guess fake boobs don’t get in the way with racquetball.

Game #1 was a slaughter. We played up to 21; I think I had 7 points. I started to feel sorry for her that she was stuck with me, kind of like the one and only time I went golfing this summer (painful). Game #2 was a closer match. At one point we had it tied up at 17. I had visions of winning and faking a heart attack and having her give me CPR. But like Kammron Taylor at the free throw line with 23 seconds left shooting a one-and-one, I choked. The Ohio State Buckeyes won on Sunday, the 39 yr old won on Wednesday.

While she gathered up her jewelry I tried to mop up some of the sweat that had plastered my hair down. I forcibly regulated my breathing so I wouldn’t sound like a panting dog on a hot day. We walked back to the gym for some water. As we parted ways I asked her if we were still on for dinner and she confirmed.

In the locker room I ran into one of the old lawyers.

Old lawyer: So, how did it go? It looks like she gave you a good workout.

Me: Dude, she kicked my ass.

Most people at the gym take a shower after they work out. Most people at the gym are old. No people at the gym have shaved pubic areas. I have a shaved pubic area. I do not take showers at the gym.

My whole body was fifteen degrees warmer than it should have been. I tried to cool down my head with cold water. That worked a little bit. I tried to dry myself off in front of one of the hair driers. That did not work. Having hot air blow on my already hot skin only made me sweat more. When I sweat more I panic that the sweating will never stop, making me sweat even more. I rushed out of the locker room with wet hair and semi damp underwear (I know, euw), hoping the cold air outside would do the trick. And it did do the trick, well, for most body parts.

I sat at my desk all afternoon with the smell of feet drifting up at me. By 3:30 the smell had consumed my office. By 4:00 I was emailing the 39 yr old trying to postpone dinner till Thursday night. I tried to think of a good excuse like my dog ate my homework or something but I was both physically and mentally tired. I don’t like to lie and I’m not very good at it. The Renter can tell stories of me saying I will do something the next day and then not doing it but that’s only because I’m the most agreeable person in the world when I’m loaded and if someone suggests that we go out to eat or jump off a cliff I’m right there giving high fives. And I must admit I have reworded some of the FA’s so called “quotes” but that’s only because he isn’t all that funny and the whole point of this blog is to make you laugh or shit in your pants or vomit when you read this right after lunch.

4:05 I scrapped the email idea and called her on the phone.

Me: Hi, 39 yr old, it’s me, B to the…, also known as Brian.

39 yr old: Yes, the accountant/CIA operative. I was just emailing you.

(If there’s one thing I have with women it’s good timing like I’ll meet them right after they get divorced or when they just want to use me for sex or when they’re drunk and non-responsive – I like those best.)

Me: Yeah, are you free tomorrow night for dinner?

39 yr old: Actually, no, no I’m not. I was going to email you that you didn’t have to do the dinner thing since you’re pretty much a rookie at it.

(I told you it was bad.)

Me: No, I want to have dinner. (That was the whole point now wasn’t it? It’s not like I was going to put myself through all that abuse for nothing.) It’s just that I’m pretty beat after that workout and in all honesty, I don’t smell all that great.

(Honesty always gets the women in the sack, trust me.)

39 yr old, laughing: What, didn’t you take a shower?

(Brutal honesty is the ultimate aphrodisiac.)

Me: Well, not really, see, nobody in the locker room has shaved pubic regions and well, I do. I’d feel really weird taking a shower next to some 80 yr old guy who thinks I must be in a cult or something.

39 yr old, laughing even more and drooling slightly: Ah, I see. But yeah, I’m busy tomorrow so we can do it next week if you want to.

(She said “do it.” Beavis and Butthead were my mentors.)

Me: And we need to set up another game. I had a lot of fun.

39 yr old: Yeah, I did too. (Or something else like that followed by a couple comments on me whiffing at the ball.)

After that I sat at my desk with some crazy thoughts going through my head. What did she think of the sweaty, smelly, pubically shaved life-fuckup that is B to the… (referring to myself in the third person is pretty cool). And then I got an email.

Subject: lol

(Whew.)

39 yr old: By the way...that's what the towels are for...to cover up those regions...

Me: I was wondering what you'd be thinking. I've never ventured back to the shower area. I don't know if they have individual showers or what. And I would have the towel wrapped around me. There should be a sign posted in there requiring it. I know it sounds weird or whatever. But at least it's not that I don't shower because I have a small wee wee or something. Just trimmed just in case a female (gasp!) wants to get friendly. By the way, that is like riding a bike right? Otherwise I might be screwed.

39 yr old: LOL I know, you typically do weights and that doesn't really make a shower must. From you stature and shoe size....LOL....I'd never hypothesized that size was an issue. Stay neat-n-trim, chicks dig it. And, the bike theory holds true.

Me: That's great news! I was afraid I'd have to air hump my couch one of these days.

39 yr old: Well if its leather don't worry about it, clean up should be easy. (did I really write that!)

So instead of having dinner with the woman who draws stares and glances from all the old guys at the gym, I will be playing Star Wars in my bedroom with the glow in the dark condoms (plural, I think two rounds might be in order).