September 13, 2013
Friday the 13th and a Cold
I've still got my cold, and was tempted to skip the blog again this morning. After all, what worse combination is there than a cold on Friday the 13th? Alas, I dragged myself out of bed and forced myself to do this. Let's all have a round of pity for poor, poor me. (Anybody know where I can get cheap Kleenex? I'm going through a lot.) I managed to do my two hours of coaching last night, but am not sure about tonight's 2.5 hours scheduled.
Wallet and Other Old Stuff
Since I'm feeling very old right now due to my cold, I thought I'd tell the story of my wallet, which turns 32 years old this month. This is only peripherally table tennis related, but since it's a source of legend among the locals, I might as well tell the story.
In September of 1981, when I was 21 years old, I started classes at University of Maryland. (I'd taken two years off to train for table tennis in North Carolina.) On the very first day I went to the Student Union for lunch, where there were a number of restaurants. I went to the pizza place. When I reached the front of the line I ordered a pepperoni pizza, pulled out my wallet, and paid. As I handed the cashier the cash, I placed the wallet on the counter for a few seconds. When I reached for it, it was gone. I looked around, but couldn't find it. Someone behind me said, "Excuse me, was that your wallet on the counter?" I said yes. The person said someone had just picked it up and left. I ran out into the hallway, but I never saw the wallet again.
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