Here's a little peek into my thought process on an all-too-common Tuesday during dart season.
7:20 am — Drag yourself out of bed after slapping the snooze button one too many times. "Ugh, I don't wanna go to work today. Ohhh shit, I have darts tonight, too! I'm starting to get tired of league. Maybe I won't go. Who can I get to shoot for me?"
9:09 am — "OK, fine. So I'll go and shoot, have a couple sodas, leave right after the last game, and I can be home by 9:00. Maybe I'll get a movie or something and watch that."
10:37 am — "Man, this morning is going slow. Isn't it lunch time yet? After work today, I should really run over to...oh, wait. Nope. Can't do that. Gotta go shoot darts."
12:44 pm — "Hah! Morning's over. Allll this work to do, though. Damn, I could really use a beer. OK, so if I have a couple beers during league, that's fine. Relax a little, shoot some good darts and get out of there at a decent hour."
1:39 pm — "Gregg, you're running out of weeks this year, and you don't have a sixer yet, you know. Tommy just got one last week, are you gonna let him stay ahead of you all season? Gotta get one. Shoot 'em good tonight."
3:27 pm — "I wonder how far ahead of the rest of the league I am in tons. I haven't seen a stat sheet in weeks. Last week was kind of a below-average night, better make up for it tonight. Hit that middle."
5:59 pm — "Nope, can't stay later tonight at work, I've gotta get to league. We're shooting the second-best team, and I need to get there early to warm up a little. My team needs me, and I need to get some good stats, and a bunch of wins."
6:45 pm (driving to the bar) — "Hit your sixer tonight, Gregg. Shoot 'em straight, shoot 'em hard. Hit your sixer, hit your sixer, hit your sixer, hit your sixer."
7:06 pm — Orders a beer even before taking jacket off. "Mmm, that's good. I've been looking forward to that since lunch! Just a couple beers, though. And don't hang around all night after league, either. Make this an early night, remember?"
8:42 pm — "Wow, three hat tricks tonight, and nine tons! Glad I came out to shoot. Didn't get my sixer, but I'm sure that'll come one of these weeks. For now, I really better get goi..." (out loud) "Hey, you guys wanna shoot a few games for money?"
10:41 pm — Several games of darts later, with a few extra dollars in the pocket, you start an 18-minute, spirited discussion about the final score of Super Bowl XXI (no one can remember). This is immediately followed by a 22-minute debate on why Barry Sanders was a better running back than Emmitt Smith or Walter Payton. Or Jim Brown, for that matter.
11:23 pm — "Man, I could really go for some chicken wings." (out loud) "Who wants wings??"
12:46 am — One dozen hot wings and a Pabst Blue Ribbon later (hey, PBRs are only a buck on Tuesday, how can you go wrong??), you realize how late it's gotten.
12:54 am — "Ugh. Next week I'm definitely not staying out this late. In fact, maybe I won't go. Who can I get to shoot for me?"
I'm pretty persuasive toward myself to change my mind, aren't I? Yeah, like it takes a lot of arm-twisting to get me to stay out and shoot cash games or go eat hot wings.