So when we were down in Mexico, I played some beach volleyball. This is post edge of death sickness- so I wasn't hittin' on all eight to say the least. I pretty much felt like half or a little less. Nonetheless, I tried. Well, there was this couple there from Texas, more than likely Dallas- westend folk. The guy seemed nice enough- kind of quiet and reserved but having a good time. His wife on the other hand was...hmmm....something else shall we say. She thought and dressed like she was every straight man's fantasy. It was just a little over "over the top". She was yelling at the other guys on her team when they'd miss a bump or spike or whatever and acting like she was ready to knock the ball down my throat. But what really stuck with me and still makes me kind of chuckle to think about today is what she kept yelling at her husband. You need to hear this in your head with a heavy Texan accent and think of an older, not really in shape, scantly clad, leather skinned, half buzzed, half naturally obnoxious "lady". She must have yelled to her quiet, reserved husband at least a dozen times, "SPIKE IT TONY!!!!" Yeah well, Tony was about 5'6" and there weren't gonna be no spikin' on this net ya'll. It was about two feet above regulation and he didn't even have the wind in his favor. But... she kept yellin', "SPIKE IT TONY!!!" I'll leave you with another gem she said when he missed a shot. "Well, guess what you're not getting tonight?"
Here's a photo just because:
This is a resort delivery truck. One more drink and I would have taken off on it and let them chase me.
1 comment:
I think we ran into that same woman last week at the House of Blues (in the West End, no less).
Post a Comment