At least I don’t improvise like a girl.
April 5th, 2007 | by Scott Jennings |If you’re in my tight circle of buds, then you’ve probably heard by now that I suck at throwing rocks. Everywhere I go, it’s “hey Scott, I hear you suck at throwing rocks.” Or “hey Scott, I heard you really shit the bed when it was time to man up and throw rocks.” Or “hey Scott, way to throw rocks, there, Rocky McNoThrow.”
See, we were at Fiesta Grill last Friday to celebrate Austin’s birthday, and as is the custom at that restaurant, we had to wait a year and a half to be seated. We passed the time outside the restaurant in the gravel parking lot, and at some point, one of us got the brilliant-on-its-face idea to throw the gravel stones at the gas station next door.
Now, I’ll be the very first to admit that when my turn came, things didn’t go well. My form wasn’t perfect, the lighting wasn’t ideal, I was a bit out of practice (when was the last time YOU threw rocks?), but my biggest mistake was choosing an awkwardly proportioned stone that caught one of my fingers on release, deflecting it to the ground a few feet in front of me.
At the time, this seemed very funny, and we expressed this spontaneous joy with laughter. I don’t mind being the butt of a joke, especially when I fuck up so openly, though I wasn’t thrilled that the attractive woman who accompanied us was like, “wait, were you serious?” I had to drink the fuck out of some beer to show HER.
But apparently this has turned into a “thing,” whereby friends and acquaintances “give me the business,” since a few of the people who witnessed my failure can’t “shut the hell up about it already.” So I’m using my Intertube to declare: I will offer a rock throwing exhibition in order to silence my critics and demonstrate my rock throwing prowess.
Then you’ll be sorry. Then you’ll be SORRY.
