( 12:54 AM ) teahouse
All The Right Moves
Our corporate tennis match this week was against another law firm.
We KILLED them.
I was TOTALLY ON all night. My serve was magnificent, my backhand was deadly, my forehand was powerful.
I was a menace at the net. My volleying was superb. My lobs were perfectly placed. My footwork couldn't be beat.
I saw raw fear in my opponents' eyes. I won my first set 6-0. Our team captain remarked, "Wow, THB is playing so well tonight! She's a blur on the tennis court!"
When we left the match and headed home, I was feeling pretty good.
Then, getting out of the cab in front of my apartment building, I slipped on a patch of ice and went face-down into a pile of dirty snow.
My tennis skirt went flying up over my waist, and my bloomer-clad arse waved in the air for all to see for a full five minutes, while I spit muddy snow out and tried to stand up in the quagmire of slush and ice.
Yeah, not such fancy footwork after all.
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