Our new pad has a dartboard. It’s the kind of stupid diversion I would never think of having in my domicile, but since the previous tenants had a dartboard and I dug it, it’s sorta become an institution around here. Also, ever since I saw action movies as a wee lad, the ones where the hero throws small, pointy projectiles at enemies (i.e. throwing stars, weighted knives, tomahawks, high-heeled shoes), I’ve had a secret affinity for lodging potentially deadly things in walls, boards, etc. I think one time when I was like ten years old I tried to kill birds in the back yard by hurling butter knives at them. I was stupid, like a really old, demented construction worker with a rivet in his head – except in the sprightly body of a ten-year-old.
Tonight Greg and I came home; he had all the intentions of going to bed early but somehow we ended up tossing darts for neigh an hour. Sometimes there was great tension as we sighted with intense concentration, trying to best each other’s finest efforts. Sometimes the contests reduced themselves feats of absurdity: who can hit the board for the most points from the far end of the room? Who can hit the board using the most arc? Who can nail the picture of Greg? Who can most shamefully lodge their dart in the drywall? Sometimes we had to mop the linoleum after someone actually got a bullseye and crapped all over the floor. It was great. We were playing shirtless and I had to fight the extreme urge to throw darts at Greg’s nipples. They’re so target-y. Damn I’m weird!
So yeah, darts are cool. Come over, have a beer, throw some darts with me. I’m lonely. Anyone wanna give me a job?
Sure! Come to Canada, I’ll find you a job..
Sorry, sorry Steven. Greg, if I were you, I would keep your shirt on.
A job? Did I hear right? Steve wants a job?!
Darts are addictive. I have a board on my back patio. The only reason why I don’t play is because my mom broke all of my dart tips.
Stevo, I love you and I would give you a job and my right testicle if I thought you would take advantage of either. I’m not saying you’re lazy…ok, yeah, I am. But yeah, I hit that picture of greg three times and I’ve yet to get a single instance of lovin’ from the guy. No emails, no calls, not a single instance of anything resembling action of any kind. I will definitely come over and play darts with you anytime, bro.
So you don’t have a steady job for a couple o’ years and all of a sudden you’re lazy? Oh yeah…
21 years?
does anyone really think putting pointy objects in steve and greg’s hands is a *good* idea?
yes