In attempts to get rid of the recent fat that has found its way to my belly, thighs, cheeks (both kinds) and other places I'm too ashamed to mention...I conned my boyfriend into a friendly (but still athletic) game of tennis.
Here's a short blurb of my conversation with my boyfriend, the tennis coach:
Me: George! Play like a normal human, you're my workout partner.
George: You're not my partner, you're my opponent.
Me: No babe, this is a workout, we are partners..you know, tennis partners.
George: You're on the other side of the net, therefore my OPPONENT. And what does a normal human play like?
Me: Opponents don't go to Target and buy rackets together. I doubt Roddick and Federer went shopping to buy rackets together, therefore we are PARTNERS!
A friendly game of tennis to a girl consists of aggressive volleying back and forth with some hustle here and there...and a friendly game of tennis to a guy simply doesn't exist.
.jl.
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