This Is How I Got My Phillips Frisbee

I'm an old man. Not in age. I don't look old. But my tolerance for disrespect is low. I was minding my business and these kids caused me to transform into a grumpy old man. I told them to get off my lawn, and I kept their remote control airplane!

This was less than a year ago, in New Paltz, New York.

I was in the gym after working out (yeah, I like to bench like 350...), taking a shower. Out of nowhere, this blue Frisbee shoots into the shower area, bounces off a wall, and hits me in the back.

I let out a "Owe!" I hear footsteps echoing off the tile. A high school kid on an orientation tour comes running in, appologizing, and explaining that his "idiot" friend grabbed his Frisbee and threw it in the general direction. They "didn't mean to hit me."

I was standing there, naked, with suds in my hair. In good humor, I handed him back the Frisbee. "It's alright," I said. "No harm done."

He took the Frisbee, trying to keep from laughing, and said, "Thank you, sir."

I didn't like this kid. He called me sir.

I finished my shower.

I walked out of the shower room, towel around my waist, towards the lockers. I was looking down at my feet and when I looked up to see where I was going, I was struck in the forehead by as fast moving blue plastic disk.

It hurt. There was a red mark above my eye for the next few hours.

The two pubescents were standing there, clutching their stomachs, suppressing laughter and apologizing all at once. The one I had talk to minutes before was shaking his head, as if wanting to say something, but afraid he would laugh out loud. He walks forward, arm reached out as if expecting that I would again place this weapon in his hands.

I would not.

I waved the blue disk in front of his face and said, "I'm keeping this."

He started in protest.

"Thanks for the Frisbee."

I walked back to my locker. I was lucky they didn't try to gang up on me. They were not happy. I felt their stares followed me, but they did not. Besides the locker room growing quieter (because we were the only three present), there was no reaction. I walked to my locker, opened it, and put my booty in my backpack.

I got dressed as usual, packed my things, and made my exit. Five feet from the door, I heard a whizzing in the air, a sound that was not natural. Reflexes at their best, I shot around, my hand somehow lifted with perfect accuracy to the right position, and without flinching I caught a second Frisbee, this one deliberately aimed at the back of me head.

"I'm keeping this one too!"

I walked out.

That would be a way cooler story if it were accurate. I made up the last part, but I thought it would be a nice touch. Plus, it also helps to explain why I have two Phillips Frisbees, and not the one I confiscated from the teens.

Where did that second Frisbee come from anyway?










.