Lest I Forget…

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:

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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]

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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.

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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.

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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?

 

You betcha.