Queen of the Whack-a-Mole
My plan, upon arriving at the arcade with The Wedding Date and his kids, is to kick butt. This way they’ll know whose boss even if I did spend the past hour telling dumb blonde jokes.
Unfortunately we start with one of those car racing video games. I come in 8th out of 8th place the first time and 7th the next, not because I improved but because I ran another car off the road just before crashing through the window of a car dealership.
We move onto Skee Ball except it’s called “Ice Ball” at this particular arcade and the balls are white. This, ostensibly, is why I lost at Skee Ball as well.
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By the time we move on basketball, I decide the polite thing to do would be to offer to hold everyone’s jackets (especially as there aren’t enough basketball stations for everyone).
When the eldest challenges me to a game of air hockey, I end up knocking the puck into my own goal more times than not.
At last we move onto Whack-a-mole. Except its not Whack-a-mole, it’s this weird light up game decorated with frogs.
“Where are the moles?” I shout.
“There are no moles!” The Wedding Date shouts back. “Hit the lights!”
The lights? Sure enough there are half a dozen little lights scattered across my side of the board. I thought they were warning signs that a mole was about to emerge from beneath the board, or perhaps little decorative mole hats, but they were actually the “moles” themselves and I’d already lost about ten seconds valuable whacking time waiting for the real targets to appear.
Nonetheless, I killed.
And I won.
Against The Wedding Date’s eldest, who promptly announced that there was something wrong with the other side of the board and demanded we switch sides for a rematch.
Despite the defective lights, I won again.
Moral of the story?
I can’t drive worth sh*t.
My aim sucks.
I have no hand eye coordination.
And my understanding of physics (and bank shots) is basically non-existent.
But whacking things? Well, yes, evidently I’m good at that.
PS: Still in need of a chuckle? Check out my latest piece for Metropolis.
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- Finally: The Wedding Date’s Kids (fieldworkinstilettos.com)
Fieldwork in Stilettos 
2 Responses to “Queen of the Whack-a-Mole”
Well, I can’t say much for my dating skills (which clearly suck), but as for kids: I own Ms. D’s kids in most activities. It’s nice being 20 years older than the oldest. Lots of time to practice beating other kids.
whacking non existent moles is therefore your thing. Go you