“Six balls and you don’t think we can get one in?” the blond laughs, “I’m a pitcher.”
“Line ‘em up, Cess,” I say.
Cess puts the six balls on the counter, three in front of each of them. He picks up the first ball, aims, and throws. The ball hits the basket, and bounces out again.
“Five more tries to prove you’re really a pitcher,” I say, wiping toffee sauce from the corner of my mouth.
He ignores me, and takes another throw. The ball hits the back of the peach basket and bounces out.
“I hope you don’t treat women the way you treat the balls, just nailing it as hard as you can. It takes finesse,” I say, smirking.
“Up yours,” he says.
He throws the next ball, gentler this time, but it still bounces out. The guy’s got good aim, I’ll give him that.
“This is bullshit,” he says, looking around at the crowd.
“Ain’t no bullshit. Pass me some balls, Goldie, I’ll show him how it’s done.” Emily gets two balls out of the basket at the far end. I take one from her, look at the asshole and say, “I only need one.”
She tosses the other ball in her hand, and I take aim.
“Pay attention, you might learn something,” I say and release the ball into the basket Emily took the balls from.
It lands in the basket and thuds against the ball that’s already in it. The ball she left in it stops the new ball from bouncing out again.
“Your turn,” I say, looking at the crowd and laughing. I lean against the counter, glaring at him as he takes aim and I take another bite of the funnel cake.
“Ah, come on, let’s stop embarrassing the poor guy,” Emily says.
“Shut up,” the guy snaps.
He throws two more balls, both of them hit the basket and bounce out again.
“Seems like this town is in need of a better pitcher,” I say.
The crowd laughs, and the guy turns red with anger and embarrassment. He throws the last ball, and it bounces out again, of course. He puts his head down, mutters something under his breath and pushes his way through the crowd.
“That was fucking hilarious, you crack me up,” Emily says and gives me a quick kiss.
Her kiss floods me with heat, and I know I made the right decision in humiliating the fuck out of the guy instead of throwing that punch. Various people from the crowd have now lined up for their chance at doing what the town’s star pitcher couldn’t. Emily takes the first guy’s money, an old guy wearing a t-shirt that barely covers his beer gut.
She hands him three balls and directs him to the basket I used, with the extra ball still in it. The guy takes aim and his first ball lands in the basket.
I look at the crowd and say, “Good to see there’s someone in this town who knows how to throw a ball.”
They laugh and some even clap. I’m buzzing from defeating the asshole. Surprisingly, it was far more satisfying that giving him a black eye.
Leaning across the counter, Emily throws her arm around my neck and pulls me close. I crush my mouth against hers, reveling in the taste of my woman.
New World Man (Emily)
It’s June tenth. My twenty-first birthday. But it’s a Saturday, and that means I’ll be sitting in this booth all day, convincing idiots to give me five bucks to try to throw a ball into a basket.
When are they going to realize they can’t win? Unless I want them to, that is.
Cess says we have to make sure it seems like you can win, so every so often, we tilt the baskets to keep the balls from bouncing out again. You can’t tell the angles from the other side of the counter, but we still have to be extra cautious because the state regulators are known to come round posing as players. They’re checking for fixed games, and if we get caught, that means a big fine for the carnival, and Papa Smurf’s boot up my ass.
I love getting to choose who I want to win. Somehow, men who are dicks to their girlfriends never do. But when I offer a discounted or free set of balls to their girlfriends, they always win. Assuming they can hit the basket.
Kids also tend to win a lot. I just have to be careful not to let too many win, or it eats into mine and Cess’ commissions. We have to pay for the stuffed animals ourselves, and I’m not Santa Claus.
I’m loving it though, it’s lots of fun. And now I totally get what Steel was saying before, about one of the best things about this job being all the smiles we put on people’s faces. And sometimes wiping the smiles off the faces of assholes. It’s a real buzz.
We’re still in Mississippi. I never appreciated just how many small towns there actually are in one state before now, and Papa Smurf said we’re not even going to most of them.