I’ve been taking a one-on-one badminton lesson with my awesome teacher for 2 months now. A pattern is beginning to emerge in the way I think. This is how it goes:
“Hope I do okay today. Yay! Badminton class. Hey teacher!”
“Whoops, missed that one. Dammit! Missed again. It’s okay, it’s just warm-up.”
“God, I hate this drill.” (The drill is running from one side of the court to the other in only three steps.)
“Yeeeaaahhhh.” (When we review and I begin to return all the shots at me.)
“What the fuck is he saying to me? Just nod and smile and say you get it, then wait for him to just force your hand in the position he wants.”
“Dammit! Dammit! Pull it together Becky. Hit those motherfucking birdies.”
“Feet. Remember proper feet.”
“Eye on the birdie. Eye on the birdie.”
“Feet! You idiot! Feet!”
“God how stupid are you! Feet and hands move together all the time! Why can’t they work together now?!”
“Getting pretty tired now. What time is it? What?!!? It’s only been 30 minutes?! Awww fuck.”
“Fuck.”
“Fuck.”
“Must. Hit. Birdie.”
“Teachers giving me that look again. That ‘why haven’t you gotten this yet’ look. Give him a sheepish smile.”
“Note to self: learn how to say ‘my bad’ in Chinese.”
“Fuck.”
“Distract teacher by asking about a skill you can do standing still, or just get him talking so I can catch my breath.”
“Is it over yet?”
“Hit…..*gasp* birdie….*gasp* run….”
“Wait, is he putting the birdies back in the box? Is it done? Oh, thank god! THANK GOD!!!”
“Maybe I can sneak five more minutes if I ask a new question.”
“Learn how to say ‘my bad’ in Chinese.” Hilarious.