Agincourt

Other than listening to hair band music on Fridays, having disturbing dreams, and beat boxing, I don't excel at much. I've always been rather disgusted with my medieval weaponry skills, so you can imagine my elation when I got an email from Groupon a few months ago for half off four archery lessons. I took my first lesson last week, and I showed promise. Tonight was my second lesson, and I am hitting my stride.

There were probably about 15-20 people at the lesson, including the likes of Goni, Gregerson, and DiTo. With about five minutes left, the instructor was all, "All right listen up freshmen bitches, shit's about to get interesting. Everyone gets three arrows. Top score wins a bow and arrow set. For reals." The feeling in the room was electric.

In case you don't know basic archery scoring (I didn't until tonight), there are 10 rings, and you get 1 point for the outer-most ring, 2 points for the next ring in, etc., until you get to the yellow, which has the outer bullseye, which is 9 points, and the inner bullseye, which is 10 points.

My first arrow was a 7. It was a slip-up. I knew I had little room for error. Summoning my inner Mongol, I shot a 9 and 10 with the next two for a total of 26. Goni also had a 26. So did two chumps I didn't even know. "What the fuck happens now?!" shouted a one-eyed clairvoyant eating an orange in the corner. The instructor did a backflip. When she landed, she raised her hands in the air. Everyone fell silent. She started with little more than a whisper. "Shoo- shoo- shoo- shoot-out." Then she repeated it, a little bit louder. Then she motioned with her hands for others to join in. Soon, the entire room was screaming, "SHOO- SHOO- SHOO- SHOOT-OUT!" while stomping their feet and clapping their hands. Of maybe it was "shoot off." Hell, I don't know. I was pretty drunk.

Four archers. One arrow each. Best score wins. Ho. Ly. Shit. Talk about pressure.

I had to walk down a little bit to get an open target. This meant that the other three shot before I did. They were all pretty good shots -- a 6, a 7, and an 8. All I needed to do was hit the yellow, and the bow and arrow set would be mine. All eyes were on me. I felt a combination of nervousness, excitedness, and sexual arousal. This must have been what Jack the Ripper felt like before he mutilated his first hooker. Steady and steely, I stepped to the line, raised my bow, positioned my arrow, pulled that shit back, aimed, and released. I didn't even need to see where it landed, although it's almost impossible not to, since it takes like half a second to hit the target. Yellow. I collapsed to the floor, thanking Robin of Locksley audibly. My fellow classmates, some cheering, some crying, some urinating all over themselves, picked me up and hoisted me on their shoulders. After a half hour of victory laps and champagne, they finally put me down and I was able to collect my prize. Bonus dagger! For some reason, this is how I stood when I received my spoils.
When I got home, I was still quivering (pun intended) with excitement. I walked in the door. Jester was sitting on the couch watching one of a surprising number of reality shows about well-to-do housewives. I showed her my prize and told my story. Instead of giving me congratulations, what does she say to me? "It's too bad you aren't good at a sport that can help you lose some weight." Thanks hon.