Across from my desk, Dad-Boss plops down. He smugly greets me with a smirk... "The Tennis Pro!" I grit my teeth and utter "that's right!" We gnash our teeth and glare in awkward silence.
I start the conversation. "Did you know that I beat Jeff (brother-in-law) 6-0, 6-0? Yep. That's called a double bagle. We played a third set and I won that one 6-2. So, if you are counting... I won 18 out of 20 games". Dad Boss sneers as if unimpressed. More awkward silence.
On days like this, my spirit is on fire. In fact, I walk around with a little pep in my step. Tonight starts four straight nights of tennis... a sport I rule. No one, not even Dad Boss, can bring me down.
People wonder why I play so much tennis. It's not very hard to figure out. The sport of tennis rewards me. I am triumphant, respected, and feared on the courts. It is something a Dad-Boss has never given me. I am just his strange gay son. Perhaps his greatest embarrassment?
And that is why...
Adidas SITH SHOES: Long have I waited for the last Jedi to fall at my feet.