Ping Pong

Earlier this year I ran up my hill to announce to my Sister that we needed a ping pong table. I thought that by owning a ping pong table we would be inundated with friend requests, and then of course attain fame and fortune. Bright eyed and excited, she agreed.

Our Dad had a one word answer for our new ping pongapalooza kitchen table/bar for freinds, and that was; "stupid".

So, a week later we were the proud owners of one pro sized ping pong table. Indoor table tennis here we come! The problem being it was in Noe Valley and we didn't own a truck. Or a car. High on ambition we took all of the public transportation we could and whamo! we had our $40 table (a great craigslist deal found by my Sister).

Doing what any other city girl would do, we called for a cab. Three cabs, two creative refusals and one pissed off neighbor later we threw in the towel and gave the look of defeat.

The prior table owners allowed us to store our table back in their house so that we could arrange for pick up the following day. Dragging our feet we slowly walked the eleven blocks to the closest bus stop home.

Well, to make a long story longer we never ended up famous and wealthy. Instead said table owners had their son's eight year old birthday party that night and the table broke.