Life is like a game of Skee Ball
Sometimes, I feel life is like a game of skee ball. "How is that?" you may be wondering....wonder no more....I shall tell you:
Life is like a game of skee ball. The air is filled with excitement....the sound of bells and buzzers, the aroma of popcorn and pizza, laughter and squeals of delight from the crowds of children all around. You place your two tokens into the slot with a nervous sense of anticipation. The lights atop the game flash. And then nothing. You push the "coin return" and try to push down the sense of panic that is creeping up your throat. The tokens fall out and you move to the next machine. Yes! This time you hear a sound that is music to your ears.....nine wooden balls roll into place. You pick up the first ball. With cat-like skill, you roll the ball - straight into the gutter. No worries, eight left. By the fifth ball you have only 80 points. But then ball #6 - jackpot! 50 points! Tickets! Another 50! More tickets!!! Then 30, then 10. You collect the tickets and count them franticly as you realize you need only 15 more tickets to get the giant over-stuffed teddy bear of your dreams. After searching in your pockets, you scrounge up two last tokens. One more game. You must play your best game of skee ball EVER. Sweat is pouring down your face and your hands are shaking as you insert your two last tokens. The lights, the sounds. You pick up the first ball. Gutter! Panic! Ball #2. 10 points. Better, but the panic grows. Ball #3. Gutter! Panic has won! You scoop up the wooden balls into your arms like a hungry squirrel and scramble up the ramp. With manical laughter you place the balls into the slot marked "50." Lights flashing. Bells ringing. Tickets streaming from the machine. Yes! That bear shall be yours!!! You think it is the high of winning, but suddenly you realize to your horror that you are being pulled from the ramp by a large black man with a t-shirt that says "Security." Before you can grab the tickets from the machine, he has whisked you away. You find yourself outside. Alone. Scared. Cold. Your jacket is still inside with your friends. Sitting down on the sidewalk you begin to cry. Tears stream down your face. Faintly you hear the sound of talking and laughter in the distance. So very distant. Head in your hands you ponder your life. Then someone calls your name. It is your best friend. With your jacket. Wiping the tears from your eyes, you stand up and put your jacket on while mumbling something about a stupid giant over-stuffed teddy bear. You shove out your hand and relinquish your remaining tickets for your friend to find something to get. Maybe some stupid erasers or a temporary tattoo. After a few minutes of moping around the parking lot, you see your friends exiting the building. Time to go. Another disappointment. But then as your friends draw nearer, you see it. Your best friend has the giant over-stuffed teddy bear. With a big smile on her face she hands him to you! Tears agian, but the good kind. She collected tickets from everyone to get the bear for you. You hug the bear. You hug her. Life is good.
Life is like a game of skee ball. The air is filled with excitement....the sound of bells and buzzers, the aroma of popcorn and pizza, laughter and squeals of delight from the crowds of children all around. You place your two tokens into the slot with a nervous sense of anticipation. The lights atop the game flash. And then nothing. You push the "coin return" and try to push down the sense of panic that is creeping up your throat. The tokens fall out and you move to the next machine. Yes! This time you hear a sound that is music to your ears.....nine wooden balls roll into place. You pick up the first ball. With cat-like skill, you roll the ball - straight into the gutter. No worries, eight left. By the fifth ball you have only 80 points. But then ball #6 - jackpot! 50 points! Tickets! Another 50! More tickets!!! Then 30, then 10. You collect the tickets and count them franticly as you realize you need only 15 more tickets to get the giant over-stuffed teddy bear of your dreams. After searching in your pockets, you scrounge up two last tokens. One more game. You must play your best game of skee ball EVER. Sweat is pouring down your face and your hands are shaking as you insert your two last tokens. The lights, the sounds. You pick up the first ball. Gutter! Panic! Ball #2. 10 points. Better, but the panic grows. Ball #3. Gutter! Panic has won! You scoop up the wooden balls into your arms like a hungry squirrel and scramble up the ramp. With manical laughter you place the balls into the slot marked "50." Lights flashing. Bells ringing. Tickets streaming from the machine. Yes! That bear shall be yours!!! You think it is the high of winning, but suddenly you realize to your horror that you are being pulled from the ramp by a large black man with a t-shirt that says "Security." Before you can grab the tickets from the machine, he has whisked you away. You find yourself outside. Alone. Scared. Cold. Your jacket is still inside with your friends. Sitting down on the sidewalk you begin to cry. Tears stream down your face. Faintly you hear the sound of talking and laughter in the distance. So very distant. Head in your hands you ponder your life. Then someone calls your name. It is your best friend. With your jacket. Wiping the tears from your eyes, you stand up and put your jacket on while mumbling something about a stupid giant over-stuffed teddy bear. You shove out your hand and relinquish your remaining tickets for your friend to find something to get. Maybe some stupid erasers or a temporary tattoo. After a few minutes of moping around the parking lot, you see your friends exiting the building. Time to go. Another disappointment. But then as your friends draw nearer, you see it. Your best friend has the giant over-stuffed teddy bear. With a big smile on her face she hands him to you! Tears agian, but the good kind. She collected tickets from everyone to get the bear for you. You hug the bear. You hug her. Life is good.
posted by Davida at 8:12 AM
2 Comments:
Ever considered writing as a profession? You should
thank you. :)
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