When I was asked to be a designated hitter for a softball team, because six other people had declined I knew I should say no. I pansied out and reluctantly agreed, because I
I prepared for the game by getting myself a sports bra that did more than just give me a uni-boob, because Crazy Up Top doesn't only refer to my awesome brain people. I also stopped and got myself a JOOSE, because I am a classy broad. I am so classy I put it in one of those Slurpee cups with The Big Show on it.
I sat on the bench
I made it maybe two steps and fell.
I fucking fell.
On my stupid clumsy face, elbow, and knee.
I heaved myself off the ground and took off for first base and of course didn't make it in time. I mean why would I? I was laying on the ground in front of God and everybody. Why should I retain any dignity? I went out of my way to give money to a homeless person the day of the game and THIS is how the universe thanks me? Karma schmarma.
When I returned to the bench everyone wanted to know what happened. All I could do was laugh so that I could keep the tears away. After laughing for 30 minutes, my husband came to check on me. I told him I wanted to watch the video, because I don't care who you are falling is hilarious. He then crushed my hopes of being an internet sensation or winning 10,000 on America's Funniest Videos, because he decided he would be nice and not record me during my first time to the plate. Really? Nice? He was being nice?
Basically I fell for no reason and two days later my body is still pissed at me AND I can't even let others share in the joy of it.
If you need anyone to fill in for your random sports team I'm so there. At least I would make all of your crappy players feel better about themselves.