I’m so popped by now: 7:30am tennis didn’t happen – for whatever the reason – so I went to my weekend morning group. Sunny said, “oh, you’re late.” He’s right. Ming and I teamed up against Albert and Sing. We lost both sets. Rushed home, playing with Slowpoke for little over an hour. Showered, ate my brunch, then off to my in-laws’, watched Sharapova beating Patty Schnyder, the girl with funny forehand. Why the heck she raised her hand … didn’t return the serve during the tensed final set? Then Simon called, they only have Tony and Sean, needing a warm body. So I basically told my mother-in-law that I need to go to work. It’s her birthday. Hey I once had my g/fs finished a party at my house for me. Anyway, when I sped over to SAndy’s, Irene L. and Wah came too in casual outfits, right behind me. “Just passing by.” They changed and Wah and I against Simon and Irene L. Her idea. I wondered out loud, if we won, would Wah have dinner? As game progressing, I worried if Wah’s able to sleep tonight, lol, she can take jokes. We had a thin win 6:4. Played a losing set with Brian against Irene/Wah. We were the uderdog, but did pretty good at 4:6. … Yesterday after tennis, shuttled Slowpoke at pool party and Kinglazy at his buddy’s. Trek to Chinatown for dinner at the former Silver Palace on Bowery Street, called Golden Bridge, right in front of the Manhattan bridge. A guy sit at our table perhpas bored out of his wit, starting giving me stock tip. Friday evening was tennis too. Slowpoke took lesson with Barry and I picked up a guy to play with while waiting. He looked at me, paused and then said, ‘ok’. Turned out, we had great 45 minutes hitting till I was out of breath. Then he called out to his partner … it’s Harrison.
Don’t parents all wait around and picking up the balls? When I went back to Slowpoke before her lesson was over, there’s dad sat by himself and busy talking. For a second, I thought he’s commentating on Barry’s teaching skills since his court’s the closest to him. No. Actually he’s yelling to his little boy who’s Slowpoke’s size, was playing a grown man 2 courts away in a every even game. I saw the little guy taking lesson upon arrival. Apparently the lesson was over and it’s the practice time. The dad couldn’t help but dishing out, “eeeuuuurrrhhhh … hit cross court …” Pulling his hair and shirt. The boy retorted, “oh, I hate tennis …” “Backhand ..” “Stop talking to me..” The well-built dad got up, “that’s it, let’s go home.” The pair continuously played without missing a beat trading long beautiful rallies. The dad walked a small circle, then sat down again. The boy missed a shot, he bounced up and pounding his chest like King Kong, screamed “cross court … hit hard!” “Shut up !!! … I hate tennis! Oohhh I hate hate tennis !!!! …” All the while Slowpoke was practicing serve serenely … we all cracked up. How would I behave when (if) Slowpoke gets to that level?
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