I need a woman.
Not like most guys need a woman, mind you. I’m very happily married, and wouldn’t know what to do with ‘another woman’ if I had one, anyway. I mean, who has the time in this modern era for all of that sneaking around? I’ve got shows to watch and sleep to catch up on and work to pretend I’m doing. Plus, all my extra cash right now is going toward beer and pizza and the next soul-crushing mortgage. And occasionally, scooping turds into trash cans. I know how glamorous that sounds, but I’m sorry, ladies. This meat market is closed.
Still. I need a woman. For volleyball.
See, I’m the captain of a ragtag bunch of volleyballers in a local co-ed league. It’s easy enough to find men to play — we have something like thirty-nine guys on the roster, where six people can play on the court at one time. If everyone showed up one night, our substitution line would run out the door and circle the gym. Finding men is not the problem.
“My intentions are purely sport-related, of course, but it’s easy to be misconstrued when you’re scouting women to get hot and sweaty with you once a week and it has something to do with balls and they can wear kneepads, if they want to.”
Finding women, however. Well, now there’s a tricky one, evidently. We’re supposed to field two ladies of the female persuasion on the court at all times, and most weeks, it’s a struggle. We have two women on the roster now — but that leaves zero margin for absence, and it shows. So when one of our girls is off doing whatever they do on Thursday nights when they’re not with us — traveling or seeing a show or modeling lacy lingerie and having pillow fights at all-girl slumber parties — we’re left out in the cold. And not just because we’re never invited to those sorts of slumber parties, either.
So, I’m always on the lookout for another woman to help shore up our numbers. My intentions are purely sport-related, of course, but it’s easy to be misconstrued when you’re scouting women to get hot and sweaty with you once a week and it has something to do with balls and they can wear kneepads, if they want to. Especially when your ‘big sell’ for joining the team is:
‘Hi. You don’t know me, but would you like to get hot and sweaty with me once a week? It has something to do with balls and you can wear kneepads, if you want to.‘
A guy could lose a lot of teeth with that approach. Especially if he’s picking out the younger and athletic women to ask. Some of those girls have mean right hooks. Which is a great indicator of their spiking form, but I’d prefer to find out they can play without swallowing a bicuspid, thank you very much.
So I took a different approach. Something more subtle and less hurty. I developed a series of pickup lines for volleyball girls. Here’s the first batch I came up with:
‘Hey, nice forearms. I bet you can bump with the best of ’em, eh?‘
‘Hi there! I’m looking for a girl with great ball control skills. You interested?‘
‘If a guy crushed a couple of balls at you, how many do you think you would dig?‘
‘Have you ever wanted to know what it feels like to be Logan Tom?‘
‘If you’ll spike my balls, I promise I’ll spike yours, too.‘
I’ll be honest. Those were no help at all. Plus, my wife began asking why I was going out to bars every night to talk to women. And especially why I was wearing a football helmet and had a pillow down my pants. This was getting me nowhere.
So I did what any old nerdy doof looking for a girl would do. I put an ad on Craigslist. Here’s what it said:
‘Married white male and several friends seeking healthy athletic female for indoor fun and strenuous activity.
Interested in girls able to manage one three-hour session each week. Stamina is crucial; good hands are a definite plus. Must provide own transportation, though we’re happy to share Gatorade, Ace bandages and protein bars, as required. And you can wear kneepads, if you want to!‘
I thought it was an improvement. And I got three responses from girls right away. Turns out they weren’t interested; they just wanted to meet so they could assault me in person. I guess I should have added the usual Craigslist disclaimer:
‘It’s NOT okay to contact this poster with the secret purpose of kicking him in the crotch.‘
Actually, I kind of figured that was the default for new ads. Silly me, I suppose.
Meanwhile, I’m no closer to finding a woman to help our team. So the next time one of our girls is sick or busy or out giving sponge baths to Playboy playmates, we’re right back where we started. I guess there’s only one thing left to do; desperate times call for desperate measures.
I just have a few questions: would I look better as a blonde or a brunette? If I don’t shave my legs, will that give me away? And how far can you stuff a bra before it gets in the way of your spike swing? Also, any of you volleyball ladies have a slumber party coming up any time soon?
Anyone? Girls? I can totally bring my own kneepads.
Ladies? Hello?Permalink | 2 Comments