My Arm Hurts
But that’s the price you pay when you compete in the North Atlantic semi-professional arm-wrestling circuit. What? I never told you that I’m a competitive arm-wrestler? Well, you got me. I had been trying to keep it under wraps for a while until I had moved up far enough in the rankings, but as long as the cat’s out of the bag…
Anyway, last night, I took on Pete “The Arm-Wrestler” Malloch. For those of you non-arm-wrestling aficianados, “The Arm-Wrestler” is one of the toughest competitors on the Eastern Seaboard. Frankly, I was lucky to get a shot at him. Before I could even battle him, I had to sit down at the “table of arm pain” with such contenders as Jim “Strong Arm” Jackson, David “Elbows Down” Thompson, and Lisa “Iron Ulna” Teetles. (Yes, I have arm-wrestled women. Divisions are determined by weight and experience, with no regard for gender, okay?)
At the ‘Table of Arm Pain,’ we’re all brothers. Dig?
I’m not going to lie, “The Arm-Wrestler” kicked my ass last night. Or, as we say on the circuit, he “kicked some arm.” Figuratively, of course, as kicking is not allowed in arm-wrestling. My loss dropped me a few spots in the rankings, but that’s not why I do this. Or maybe it is. I can’t remember right now. After I lost, I was feeling pretty down, so I walked to a Home Depot and bought some industrial strength varnish remover. I spent the next few hours huffing that out of a paper bag in a bus depot.
Well, that’s the glamorous life a semi-pro arm wrangler. I’ve got to get going. I have a job interview in an hour and I need to wash the ring of varnish off of my face. It looks ridiculous.
