Tennis bandits

I never had so much fun getting thrown out of a country club on the west side of Central Park. To eat or breathe in the New York City Athletic Club, you need a sports coat (which I didn’t have) and fancy shoes (which I don’t own). The guy working the front door kept denying me until we finally walked out the door and alongside Central Park. But we turned failure into fun as we laughed on our way to Philipe Chow, which looked more like a McDonald’s inside, after roaming the halls with the New York City elite. 

We planned to get a drink at the New York City Athletic Club bar and even had a letter of recommendation from a prestigious sister club. I didn’t need a letter of recommendation to get my current job but to ensure I was classy enough to sip an alcoholic beverage, we needed someone to vouch for us. To be fair, I was planning to order a Moscow Mule, which might have been like ordering the swordfish at Peter Luger’s. 

The next night, we were in bumblefly, New York, playing in an Open Tennis Tournament. I beat up on a janky lefty and then an old guy who was soliciting business from me during the warmup. The last thing you want to hear during a tennis tournament is a desperate business pitch, so I made sure to drop-shot him early so he had to run a lot, ensuring, at the very least, he would be too tired to speak to me after the match. I played the finals against a tall, lanky young kid who resembled a tennis player and played the part well as he beat me 2-6 in a one-set winner-take-all match. 

My girlfriend was sitting on a lawn chair as I approached her, and we both had the same idea. Cheesecake Factory reservation at 9:30 PM. But I had a consolation match to play, and some bald guy kept asking me to hit with him, so we devised a plan to sneak out of the facility. She grabbed all my bags, and I took off in a sprint to the car. The easiest solution was to tell the tournament director we had somewhere to be. This wasn’t Wimbledon, but for some reason, it felt more fun to sneak out into the night like two tennis bandits running from an imaginary enemy. 

I was proud of myself. Proud that I picked a girl who could indulge in the deeper moments. The moment is never really the activity itself, but it’s the energy surrounding it. The best people for you are those you can do the stupid things with.