A few days ago, I was halfheartedly doing work during
my free period when a friend challenged me to a game of foosball. For the sake
of his privacy and self-esteem, we’ll call this friend “Charleston”. I, being
my overly competitive self, accepted his challenge. We played 3 or 4 games at “low
intensity” and, after he won 2, Charleston started to get cocky. He made a bet
with me that the first person to win 3 games would get a medium basket of tater
tots from the “Cracked” food truck.
This was his first mistake. Charleston and I have been
friends for a while and he knows that I would never agree to a bet that I couldn’t
win. He won the first game but I won 3 games in a row. A medium tot was waiting
for me whenever I wanted it. Instead of taking the loss and leaving with his
dignity, Charleston asked for a rematch. He said, “If you win the next game, I’ll
get you 2 medium tots from Cracked. But, if I win, you don’t get anything.”
That was Charleston’s second mistake. After taking a serious
butt-whooping in the first few “high-intensity” games, he should’ve realized
that he was no match for my foosball skills. I accepted this new bet and won the
game with ease. Now 2 medium tots
were calling my name. Later that day however, I was talking to a senior, we’ll
call him Noah Red, about my recent foosball victories. Mr. Red reminded me of
the fact that Cracked doesn’t sell medium tots, only small and large. Knowing
this, I marched to the lounge, and informed Charleston of the news. I
challenged him to yet another duel but, this time, I made the bet. I told him, “If
I win, I get 2 large tots from Cracked. If I lose, I only get one small.” He
accepted my offer.
This was Charleston’s third mistake. He’d already been
smacked around in the last games. Why try your luck in another one? Long story
short, I whooped him again. I had more tots waiting for me than I could eat,
and that was the problem. What am I supposed to do with all those tator tots?!
I would probably end up sharing them with Charleston which takes away my
abiblity to gloat. So, the next day after school, I told him I didn’t want the
tots; I wanted the monetary equivalent of the tots ($7.50) and, if I lost, he
would only owe me half of the money. Can you guess what happened? I’ll give you
a second to think…
Yes, I beat him again. Somehow though, Charleston still
had hope left. He decided, if I scored the next goal, I would get a whopping $15
but, if he scored, I’d only get $5. It was a risky move, but I accepted.
Actually, it wasn’t risky, it was just stupid on my part. But the trend
continued that I won. Charleston continued to make foosball-based bets with me
until the end of the week and is now in $20 debt to me. Lesson here? Gambling
addictions are tough. Call 1-800-522-4700 for help.
