Dunes

I give to you a true story from this weekend's Fire Island volleyball tournament in two times eleventy-one words...

‘Can you read the sign that says stay off the dunes?’ the volunteer asked through his megaphone. ‘Then why are you in the dunes? Your team forfeits a game.’

Our team thought it a joke. It wasn’t.

We had played six games to determine seeding for the single elimination round. Was it one of those six? Or was it the elimination game, meaning our day was over? We thought it the latter. Our team complained. We spoke angry words. Draconian. Stupid. Unfair.

Another captain came to speak with us. ‘You won’t forfeit the game,’ he said. ‘You just have to win by sixteen.’ We had a handicap. But we had hope.

We entered the elimination round as the fourth seed of eight. We were focused, determined. And from the first serve, I knew we’d win. But would it be enough? At fourteen seven, maybe. At twenty twelve, doubtful. Then came their fifteenth point. We lost, playing our best volleyball of the day.

After the game, I checked with the opposing captain who knew nothing of our handicap. So, I ran to the volunteer. He indicated that the forfeit had been assessed for the seeding, not for elimination. We hadn’t lost; there was hope.

Four lessons learned. Teams need a common purpose. There’s always hope. Never assume. And stay off the friggin dunes!

Almond Eyes

I give to you a witnessed interaction in eleventy-one words...

They exit the bank one after the other onto the corner. She pauses to adjust her headscarf. He sees his chance and softly touches her on the shoulder. She turns and looks at him with beautifully almond shaped, brown eyes.

‘Hi, I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you are.’

She smiles. ‘Thank you.’

A brief pause ensues as they consider each other.

‘Would you like to get a coffee or drink?’

‘That’s very sweet, but I’m leaving for home tomorrow.’

‘Oh.’ He looks down. In that instant, he uncharacteristically decides to muster his courage. He looks up again and says, ‘I don’t mind if you don’t.’

Her smile grows wider.

Solutioning

I give to you a corporate conversation in eleventy-one words...

‘Please revert back to me about the solutioning exercise.’

‘Huh?’

‘Revert to me about the solutioning exercise.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘Just what I said.’

‘So, you want me to transform back into you while I do an exercise around “solutioning”?’

‘You know what I mean.’

‘I don’t.’

‘Get back to me when you have some solutions to the problem.’

‘Why don’t you just say that?’

‘I did.’

‘No, you asked me to become you innately at some time in the past.’

‘You’re being pedantic. Words evolve.’

‘I understand word evolution. I’m tired of corporate speak. Say what you mean in plain English.’

‘It is what it is.’

‘No shit, Sherlock.’

Kale and Lentils

I give to you an overheard, paraphrased, one-sided phone conversation at Whole Foods Bowery in New York City in eleventy-one words...

‘I’ve been working out.’

‘Yeah, I have a trainer.’

‘I lift weights and do cardio four times a week.’

‘But I’m still a skinny bitch. If you saw me you’d say I look exactly the same.’

‘I’ve been going for three months. He says I’m exercising and eating right. He tells me to be patient.’

‘I eat like a fucking bird.’

‘Yes, kale and lentils and other tasteless shit. Do you know how much protein powder costs?’

‘I’m over it.’

‘What’s worse is I’m surrounded by people who do nothing and look perfect.’

‘I know.’

‘I know.’

‘I know!’

‘I’m never going to find anyone anyway. Why do I even bother?’