When we...I mean me...I mean I...When I was young, and whilst dragging my feet on a host of lessons and other studies, I honed a number of skills to razor sharp levels. I could:
Burp on command
Make farting noises with my hand and arm pit
Lock my thumb behind my hand
Cross my eyes
Fold my tongue into a clover like shape
I even mastered artfully raising one eyebrow in the manner of Mr Spock
But the thing for which I was best known? Towel snapping.
I left wealts and scratches for days. I was a champ at summer camp. And even though I weighed a buck twenty on a good day, they always left me alone in gym.
Once at camp, a kid, ignorant of my reputation, would run up to our little cluster, snap us with a towel, and run like the dickens. The first time was free. When he did it again, we said, he might want to spread the love and not test his luck. I surrepitiously tucked my towel between my crossed legs. And, knowing that the lesson was not learned, we pretended to blithely continue our game.
"He's coming," they whispered, and I sprang into action. The startled boy turned, but it was too late, the piper cometh. The snap was epic. I was told that it was audible out the door. I find that hard to believe. I did see him melt before me, clawing at his wounded back. As he pealed his shirt off, I was mortified, and truly proud, he was bleding.
I appologized and got him something for his back (he may have deserved a snap, but that seemed excessive). And we went back to playing cards.
At 26 and counting, however, I've gone the way of good judgement. I can no longer lock my thumb behind my hand, and choose not to cross my eyes. I still raise a wicked eyebrow. But, the one lapsed skill that I actually consider reviving from time to time? You nailed it. Towel snapping.
But, when your gym locker room is primarily full of pensioners, it hardly seems fair...
I mean, they've got years of experience on me.