A few years, okay quite a few years, ago my husband and I were on a doubles bowling team with another couple. The man had been hubby's friend for about 15 years and had recently become a shirttail relative when his brother married hubby's sister. These two guys were close. You'd think they were close enough and knew one another well enough to make the following almost impossible to happen.
All evening long hubby had been giving me unwanted and unasked for "tips" on how to bowl. Don't take so many steps, don't take such short steps, fully extend your arm, keep your elbow in. I gave him "the look" which he ignored and kept up his "helpful" hints. With each hint I'd bowl a little worse which sent him into peals of laughter. "Honey, stay focused. Think about what your doing." I would glare at him and through gritted teeth say, "Thanks dear! Thanks ever so much!"
He acted oblivious to my dagger looks and would just write down the score. This was back in the day where we wrote the score down ourselves, no machines. Sometimes the women would claim the the two front seats but most often the guys would, so they could "help" us with their "helpful" hints.
"Good try hun," my husband chuckled as I walked past him to sulk, after I bowled right in between a 7-10 split. As I leaned against the counter and watched him shake his head back and forth, bemused by my lack of ability, I got a little ticked. He was leaning forward resting his face in his hands with both elbows up on the table. Bowling balls were crashing around throughout the lanes and if I wanted to get his attention so I could give him a good, mouthed, word or two, I would have to do something aside from yell.
I walked up behind him, reached under his arm and pinched him right on the tit and backed up, waiting for him to quickly turn around. Not a movement. I was puzzled. I knew I had given him a good, hard pinch. What the heck? I started forward again when all of a sudden I heard hubby say, "Ya' weirdo!" The guy sitting next to him, his friend for nigh onto fifteen years says, "What?" My hubby replies, "You heard me, I called you a weirdo."
Oh my god! This is better then I could have ever planned. I take a step back, holding my hand over my mouth. Tears already springing to my eyes.
Friend: What are you talking about?
Hubby: Didn't you, well, did you just touch me?
Friend: What in the hell are you talking about?
About now I can't hold it in. I have to breath and I gasp out loud. Friend's wife is coming off the lane and asks what's happening? I can't talk. My husband whips his head around and says, "It was YOU, you touched me?" In reply I only laugh harder and harder. Friend looks puzzled back and forth between us.
Friend: What's going on? What are you talking about?
Hubby: Welllll, um, see, someone pinched me.
Friend: So?
Hubby: Well, your the only one sitting here.
Friend: Pinched you? Pinched you where?
Hubby: Well, um, I guess maybe on the tit?
Friend: WHAT? WHAT? Why would you think it was ME?
Hubby: Your the only one sitting here! And I wasn't even going to say anything, but then I thought you'd think I liked it, and then you might pinch me again, and then you'd wonder why I hadn't said anything the first time but got all bothered the second time. So, finally, I decided to say something just to let you know I didn't appreciate the pinch. See?
Friend: No, I don't see. You thought I was gay? After all these years you thought I was gay? IF I were gay, IF I was coming out of the closet, WHY would I choose the bowling alley in front of our wives to make a pass at you? WHY?
Hubby: I don't know, that thought sort of ran through my mind, too. But hey, I'm not gay and I don't know what happens when someone decides to come out.
At this point he turns on me. I am laughing so hard I am rocking back and forth on the floor. I know I will have to do the peepee dance all the way to the ladies' room. "I hope you pee your pants and I hope it happens RIGHT NOW," he announces. The teams in the next lane over were asking us what had happened. Friend's wife was laughing pretty hard by now but she was able to gasp out what had happened. The story trickled down the lanes. Kissy noises soon floated back.
My husband glared at me, "Happy now?" Yes, very, very happy! He and friend turned back in their seats, facing the bowling lanes. Casually they leaned away from one another with one choosing to relax leaning back with with his hands clasped behind his head. They take turns doing this posture so that they are not sitting at the same angle at the same time. After a little while when they returned from their turn bowling they casually picked other spots to sit at, choosing not to sit at the score table, together, for the rest of the evening. Nor, I am sure, the rest of the season. The "helpful" hints? They were gone for a time, as well. Whenever he started to tell me how to bowl I'd look at him and make a pinching motion with my fingers. He stopped talking about how to make me a bowler in his image.
All evening long hubby had been giving me unwanted and unasked for "tips" on how to bowl. Don't take so many steps, don't take such short steps, fully extend your arm, keep your elbow in. I gave him "the look" which he ignored and kept up his "helpful" hints. With each hint I'd bowl a little worse which sent him into peals of laughter. "Honey, stay focused. Think about what your doing." I would glare at him and through gritted teeth say, "Thanks dear! Thanks ever so much!"
He acted oblivious to my dagger looks and would just write down the score. This was back in the day where we wrote the score down ourselves, no machines. Sometimes the women would claim the the two front seats but most often the guys would, so they could "help" us with their "helpful" hints.
"Good try hun," my husband chuckled as I walked past him to sulk, after I bowled right in between a 7-10 split. As I leaned against the counter and watched him shake his head back and forth, bemused by my lack of ability, I got a little ticked. He was leaning forward resting his face in his hands with both elbows up on the table. Bowling balls were crashing around throughout the lanes and if I wanted to get his attention so I could give him a good, mouthed, word or two, I would have to do something aside from yell.
I walked up behind him, reached under his arm and pinched him right on the tit and backed up, waiting for him to quickly turn around. Not a movement. I was puzzled. I knew I had given him a good, hard pinch. What the heck? I started forward again when all of a sudden I heard hubby say, "Ya' weirdo!" The guy sitting next to him, his friend for nigh onto fifteen years says, "What?" My hubby replies, "You heard me, I called you a weirdo."
Oh my god! This is better then I could have ever planned. I take a step back, holding my hand over my mouth. Tears already springing to my eyes.
Friend: What are you talking about?
Hubby: Didn't you, well, did you just touch me?
Friend: What in the hell are you talking about?
About now I can't hold it in. I have to breath and I gasp out loud. Friend's wife is coming off the lane and asks what's happening? I can't talk. My husband whips his head around and says, "It was YOU, you touched me?" In reply I only laugh harder and harder. Friend looks puzzled back and forth between us.
Friend: What's going on? What are you talking about?
Hubby: Welllll, um, see, someone pinched me.
Friend: So?
Hubby: Well, your the only one sitting here.
Friend: Pinched you? Pinched you where?
Hubby: Well, um, I guess maybe on the tit?
Friend: WHAT? WHAT? Why would you think it was ME?
Hubby: Your the only one sitting here! And I wasn't even going to say anything, but then I thought you'd think I liked it, and then you might pinch me again, and then you'd wonder why I hadn't said anything the first time but got all bothered the second time. So, finally, I decided to say something just to let you know I didn't appreciate the pinch. See?
Friend: No, I don't see. You thought I was gay? After all these years you thought I was gay? IF I were gay, IF I was coming out of the closet, WHY would I choose the bowling alley in front of our wives to make a pass at you? WHY?
Hubby: I don't know, that thought sort of ran through my mind, too. But hey, I'm not gay and I don't know what happens when someone decides to come out.
At this point he turns on me. I am laughing so hard I am rocking back and forth on the floor. I know I will have to do the peepee dance all the way to the ladies' room. "I hope you pee your pants and I hope it happens RIGHT NOW," he announces. The teams in the next lane over were asking us what had happened. Friend's wife was laughing pretty hard by now but she was able to gasp out what had happened. The story trickled down the lanes. Kissy noises soon floated back.
My husband glared at me, "Happy now?" Yes, very, very happy! He and friend turned back in their seats, facing the bowling lanes. Casually they leaned away from one another with one choosing to relax leaning back with with his hands clasped behind his head. They take turns doing this posture so that they are not sitting at the same angle at the same time. After a little while when they returned from their turn bowling they casually picked other spots to sit at, choosing not to sit at the score table, together, for the rest of the evening. Nor, I am sure, the rest of the season. The "helpful" hints? They were gone for a time, as well. Whenever he started to tell me how to bowl I'd look at him and make a pinching motion with my fingers. He stopped talking about how to make me a bowler in his image.
3 comments:
ROFLMAO
Oh, that's good!
So who pinched him?
ME!
"I walked up behind him, reached under his arm and pinched him right on the tit and backed up, waiting for him to quickly turn around. Not a movement. I was puzzled. I knew I had given him a good, hard pinch. What the heck?"
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