© 2014 Aaron Atkinson

Balls, Tennis Balls

We’re driving through a Prairie Village, Kansas neighborhood. We pass an old building with a sign that reads Racquet Club.

Laura: There’s my old racquet club!

Me: You used to be a member there?

Laura: Yep. I went there for my tennis lessons when I was a kid.

Me: That’s cool.

Laura: You know, I can still remember what it smelled like. It smelled like tennis rackets, shoes and balls.

Me: That’s kind of gross.

Laura: What do you mean?

Me: It’s just kind of gross that that place smells like balls.

Laura: I guess, but I loved that smell… wait… we’re still talking about tennis balls, right?

(And as far as the photo, that’s a throwback to 2007, where, for an 80s-themed costume party, I showed off my best John McEnroe.)

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