Okay, I’ll be the first to admit that I have a pretty messed up sense of humor but when it comes down to it I’m a relatively wholesome and good person.
There’s no real way to detail this anecdote without making me sound like an asshole. Here we go:
January 5, 2013
For those of you who don’t know, I am an EMT for a Youth Sports League on the weekends here in Phoenix. It’s a relatively engaging and rewarding job because I love kids and being able to do what I love is exceptionally fulfilling.
There are obvious responsibilities to the job like providing on site medical care for the little nuggets, but additionally, we are site administrators and coordinators for the general checking-in procedure before games. Part of this includes weighing in the kids depending on what weight division they play at.
Unfortunately, one of the nuggets wasn’t so little. As soon as the kid stepped on the scale I could tell he was apprehensive about his weigh-in. I looked down and the “little dude” was 4 lbs over his max weight.
I had to look him in the eye and say, “Sorry bud, you can’t play today.”
As soon as I said this he went on a small Godzilla-like rampage (similar to a Sue Sylvester break-down on Glee) and threw his helmet, shoved his teammates aside and then began wailing furiously. I had to finish up the weigh-in but afterwards I went to cheer him up.
“Hey little guy, don’t feel bad. We all have bad scale days! I’m trying to lose 30 lbs, at least you only need to lose 4!” I said trying to calm him down.
“Thanks, mister.” he replied.
At that point I almost had a quarter life crisis. I can’t believe he called me “Mister”. Am I really that old now?
In the end, he ended up playing waterboy for the game and also gave out orange slices.
Did I mention I LOVE orange slices?
It was a good day.