So a friend asked me to write about last night’s lesbian dodgeball game. There weren’t as many people there as usual, 12 rather than 18 or 24, so we were all playing all the time, up until close to the end when a regular showed up 1) late and 2) with a change of music to allow us to stop playing the game to the rather insipid and repetitive music the radio stations were playing that night. Real disco and old 70s ballads redone with a mean backbeat make for a Much Improved Dodgeball Score. Most Valuable Player of the Week: Sarah.
I have been trying to figure out a good metaphor for this strange game. It’s not like basketball or hockey or even soccer, especially the way we play it. So here is what I came up with.
Jaguars going for the kill.
Monkeys leaping out of three balls’ trajectories at once.
Sweaty women dancing to disco music.
The woman who gathers all of the six red balls and looks
Like a very aggressive tomato salad.
The women backing warily away, hoping not to get hit
When the tomato salad explodes in their direction.
The athlete. The wise-ass. The mom.
The crash as the ball hits the padded wall.
The louder crash as the ball hits the window.
The strength of the window, not breaking.
(Image from Google Images.)