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.)