The Comback Queen (Clearly A Learned Art)

7th Grade. Tennis courts. Singles Match. RPS vs. DEC.

We had to officiate our own matches because that’s what you do in junior high. This stuck up cheater I was playing called every single ball even remotely near the line out. It made me crazy but being the pushover I am, I never said anything. As the match went on I became more and more agitated, until a ball she hit landed way past the line and I shouted, “in!” Then I realized what I said. “I mean out, sorry. It was out!” This apparently lit a fire under her ass.

“What? What? Can’t you make your calls? Was it in or out?” she screamed.

“It’s out, I said. I meant to say out.”

“How can you say that! In, out, you don’t know! How could you all the way over there!”

“It was OUT. I saw it from over here I just said the wrong word!”

“What’s the matter with you? If it was out why did you say IN?”

I didn’t even struggle for something smart to say. An angry, “BECAUSE I’M STUPID OK?” echoed over the court.

I got the point.

But she won because the frakkin’ cheater called my next 3 shots out.