A few months back, when we were practicing for the second annual HP bowling tournament, my team had finished off a few pitchers. Someone got the idea that we should bet on the next game, with the loser taking the winner’s next on-call shift. I felt bad for Ken, since Dave was the other loser and was working for Facebook, and not very likely to care much if Ken’s phone was waking him up in the middle of the night.
It’s become a regular thing since then. The next time we all went bowling together, the bet was USDA Prime steaks for the winners, to be provided by the losers. Though the best Dave and Scott could do was USDA Choice and (oh, the horror!) Select, it was a pretty good dinner nonetheless.
The next time out the stakes were increased, and we were bowling for a steak and lobster dinner. Jimmie, Alan, Ken and Frank outdid themselves that time, and my team ate pretty well after that one.
Of course, since we were bowling again last night, the subject of a bet came up again, twice. The first time was for shrimp, and the second time for clams. Now, once again, I’ve got another seafood dinner to look forward to.
You may notice that my name hasn’t appeared on the losing side in any of those bets. Part of it is that my bowling average has been gradually increasing over time — but, to be completely honest, I still suck. If there’s one factor to which I can attribute the credit for earning me three dinners so far, it’d be Brian’s handicap negotiation skills. I’m relatively sure that, at this point, the two of us are the only ones left undefeated, and I’m giving him all the credit. Well, most of it. It’s not just that Brian’s good at negotiating a handicap; a lot of it is also due to Jimmie’s total inability to recognize a bad deal.
So, thanks, Jimmie. Alan and Frank, too. Rest assured that we do realize you guys don’t completely suck at bowling… It’s just that Brian’s smarter than all of you.
I was up late Wednesday night, since I got roped into representing the team from work at a company bowling tournament next week. We don’t want to look like the uncoordinated dorks that we are, so we went out after work to practice. Several pitchers of beer later we noticed it was 1:30 am, and that even though we still sucked, we’d practiced enough for one night.
