Trash Talk, 101

Oh. My. God. 

Last night, while going to a party at the same apartment as last week's video game debate, I felt as if I was back in my true element. A few more girls there than last, therefore more conversational elements I cared for besides the screaming video gamers. A few more drinks were ingested than last, therefore making me laugh a little bit more and not sit in my irritability. However, neither of these two characteristics of what was a great night, compared to what truly took me back to a place I hadn't been in quite some time. 

Trash Talk. 

Didn't expect that one from Miss Classy Stiletto now did you? Well let me tell you friends, learn from the best. Because in a game of darts, trash talk is my specialty. In one particular year of college, I frequented the same bar almost daily with a particular "Princess" who would never be mistaken as a dart shark. Fortunate for us, not so much for our competition, dart sharks are what we learned to be. So the trash talk was thick in our circle of friendly competitors. And I loved every bit of it. 

But graduations come and go and new beginnings suck as usual. I found myself without company at said bar and therefore without reason to go. No company=No fun. So last night, when challenged on the Host's new dart board, I was more than excited to oblige. 

We're not going to talk about the three very close games I lost before I finally got the hang of it again and beat him, but oh was victory sweet. Turning around from your final "bulls" and whispering ever-so-lady-like, "Starting off quickly doesn't matter if you can't close the deal." Makes men come unglued. In case you were interested. 

While no free drinks had to be purchased for me after winning as was the case in that particular bar (probably a good thing last night, no extra drinks were needed for this one to stumble home), victory was just as glorious as I'd remembered. 

Nostalgia. I love it.