So, now that you understand my problem, you can imagine how I felt when a young man approached my desk and asked if I had any extra balls. I stared at him for a second and tried to maintain my composure, I really did, but then he asked again and I lost it. I mean, the dude needed extra balls! Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
Poor guy stood there shuffling his feet and sort of laughing at/with me for a minute. Soon as I could manage to talk, I said, “man, I’m so sorry, I’ll check and see if I can find some balls for y--haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaawwwwwwwwha
Now, I’m doubled over gasping for air and he’s laughing too because he’s finally seen the light (or been drinking a bit, its a toss up). Anyway, I went in search of the balls and had managed to gain partial control of myself by the time I returned to inform him that I was sorry, but I didn’t have any spare balls to lend him. Then, I lost it again.
By this time, several of the young ball requester’s buddies had joined us and everyone was laughing hysterically. Manager appeared then, as they always do at the most inopportune times (they have superpowers I KNOW IT!) and we all tried very hard to quiet down and you know, act adult.
Problem is, we have 8 separate pool tables at Fox and Hound and one of my jobs is to manage all the balls and the men who need them. I cannot do this with a straight face. Can’t do it!
In fact, knowing that I should not giggle, makes me giggle harder and it’s a horrible circle of shame I am doomed to be forever stuck in I think.
Why are balls so damned funny?