So a two day pinball tournament was coming up in my town. I was desperate to attend but knew my wife would disapprove, and even if I ended up going, it would be one of those things she would mention until I went to my grave (eg "what about that time you spent two days in a bar playing pinball when I looked after the kids...")
So I told her I wanted to do a creative writing course, which would go over two days on the weekend. This was an approved activity in her mind, and she actually encouraged me to do it.
I set off with my writing pad and pens on Saturday morning, making my way to the bar where the tournament was held. The format was that the final 16 would play in the finals the next day. It was a really fun day, and I did better than I thought and finished 4th so I would be back the next day for the finals. When I got home, she asked me how the course went and wanted to see some of my work. I panicked. I hadn't thought of this. I fobbed her off and said I'd show her after Sunday. That Saturday night, after she had gone to bed, I actually spent three hours writing short stories in my pad. One was even pinball related. Utter craziness! But I was pumped to be in the finals the next day and just did what I had to do to pull this thing off.
The finals started later the next day, early in the afternoon. I told her the course started later and would be finishing about 6pm, and left home after lunch, notepad in hand. Again, I played really well in the tournament, and made it to the last 8. There was a problem though. They were running way behind schedule, and the projected finish was potentially going to something like 8pm. It was 6.30pm when I started my last match. My mind was in a tumult. If I won, I would be in the final four with a chance to win the tournament - but how was I to explain what I was doing to my wife? Already I was 30 minutes past the time I had said I would finish by. I could of course tank, and be home safely in time - but I had never been in a tournament before and here I was in the finals. I decided that whatever happened, I could't really lose. If I got eliminated, the pressure would be off and I would get home in time. If I went through to the final four...well I would just have to think something up then. We played four games, and I played with a loose, flailing style, which was not altogether successful, though by the fourth game I was a mathematical chance to make it through. Through an extraordinary combination of events, me top scoring, and the leader getting a terrible score, it came down the the last player to decide whether I would go forward or not. He just had to beat another player by a few million, and not beat me. I had a very high score, so I was confident in the latter. He was on his final ball only a hundred thousand from the other player when...he tilted! I was eliminated and headed back home, saying I was a little late as we had a drink after the writing course. I proudly showed my wife my work, and secretly relished the fantastic two days I had had.
Hope to do it again next year...just need to think of another 'approved' hobby!
(Topic ID: 61230)
