So tonight, on a whim, Greg and I went to Roller Derby. I used to watch Roller Derby every Sunday night when it was on while I was growing up. And this is what transpired:
Michelle: Ooooh, looky at those cheerleaders. I wonder what it takes to be one of those cheerleaders?
Greg: Well…I don’t think they set the bar very high.
Michelle: Dare me to go down there and pick up some pom-poms?
Greg: Uh, no.
Michelle: Ready?! O.K.! [pose]
Bartender 1: [unintelligible, but shouting from across the bar, then] You weren’t here doing your job!!
Bartender 2: Oh, yeah?! Well, I’m here now, so what do you want? Huh? What????!!!!
Greg: Um, ahem, did you say you were going to give me back my credit card now?
Bartender 2: Oh. Yeah. Sorry.
Michelle, to Bartender 2: You should totally kick that guy’s ass.
Greg: Oh, man…this is boy roller derby. What’s up with that?
Michelle: Why do you think I brought you here? heh.
Greg: I want to watch girls beat each other up. If I wanted to watch boys beat each other up, I’d have stayed at the bar.
Greg: Oh look, now it’s girl roller derby!
Michelle: You know, I think I’m kind of built for roller derby.
Greg: I think you’re built better than most girls for roller derby.
Michelle: [the look] Most girls, huh?
Greg: I mean, you know what I mean. That came out wrong.
Was all this worth the $20 and several rounds of circle-the-parking-lot-for-a-space?