Day 128. Love, 15?

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

I have one weird, irrational phobia.

I am entirely weirded out by the idea, or reality of anything with a fuzzy texture having contact with my mouth. This goes for Kleenex, paper towels, and tennis balls, etc. I actually cringe as I write this, just thinking about it, especially tennis balls.

I encountered tennis balls a lot growing up, they were all over the house. My dad, was, and is, a college tennis coach, so I’ve always been around them. I don’t know what the circumstances were for them to have touched my mouth. Maybe, it was just one bad experience. I know that I couldn’t escape them, though. We all played tennis growing up and into college.

These days, I don’t play very often, although, every time I do I want to play more. On Tuesday, I saw an ad for a job opening at a tennis club in Beverly Hills for a front desk clerk, so I applied. Today, I got a call saying that I’ve got an interview for Thursday. Oh yeah. I have two interviews back to back, the tennis club and the Apple Store.

Now, let me make clear, just because I grew up around tennis, as a coach’s son in Iowa, does not mean I know the first thing about what to expect at a tennis club in Beverly Hills. I think you can become really involved in tennis in two ways. One, grow up with your dad as a coach so you can get free balls and play on public courts near your house. Two, you can be really rich and play at country clubs. I am not in the latter’s world…yet.

The woman asked me if I knew how to string racquets. Stringing racquets involves a specialized machine thing, it’s a pretty particular skill. We had a racquet stringing machine for awhile when I was in high school. I learned how to string a racquet and did it a total of two times. I then put that skill in the pile of other high school skills I wouldn’t ever use again like, how to use iambic pentameter, knowing what a protractor does, and farting into Nalgene bottles. I let my brother, Jon, take the stringing responsibilities.

When she asked me about stringing, I said, ” Oh geez, I did know how to, like fifteen years ago.” Then I remembered to be better at BS, so I said, “Yep. I know how to.”

Before my interview Thursday, I will shop for a sweater to drape around my neck, because that’s what they do at Beverly Hills tennis clubs, right? Right?

Like a toddler in a new environment, I will just have to be reminded around all those tennis balls, not to put everything in my mouth. If I do, I will freak out.



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2 responses to “Day 128. Love, 15?

  1. Pilgrim

    In an area of the country where it’s not WHAT you know but WHO you know, the Beverly Hillbillies Tennis Club sounds like a place to meet movers and shakers. Or at least Jed and Granny. Networking, dude.

  2. Andy Walser

    So considering your phobia, is it safe to say you will never kiss Tom Selleck?

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