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I Lost a Dollar
Sep. 24th, 2004 01:01 pmYa know what rules? Trash talking chess matches.
There's this black guy in his 60's that wears sunglasses that he probably stole from Bono who sits right outside 15th and market, in the shadow of the giant clothespin. He sits on one of these big square blocks that they put into the square for god knows what reason. They're like roadblocks, except that no one in their right mind would ever drive into that square. Anyway, he has a chess board sitting next to him, ready to go, and taunts everyone that walks by trying to get a challenger. So I took him on. The bet was a dollar. There is nothing like speed chess against a homeless guy with an attitude, especially when he trash-talks you and everyone else around with the enthusiasm of a crack addict looking for a fix. Suffice it to say, since he plays chess all day, and I haven't played in a year or two, he thoroughly whipped my ass. Nonetheless, it was fun.
There's this black guy in his 60's that wears sunglasses that he probably stole from Bono who sits right outside 15th and market, in the shadow of the giant clothespin. He sits on one of these big square blocks that they put into the square for god knows what reason. They're like roadblocks, except that no one in their right mind would ever drive into that square. Anyway, he has a chess board sitting next to him, ready to go, and taunts everyone that walks by trying to get a challenger. So I took him on. The bet was a dollar. There is nothing like speed chess against a homeless guy with an attitude, especially when he trash-talks you and everyone else around with the enthusiasm of a crack addict looking for a fix. Suffice it to say, since he plays chess all day, and I haven't played in a year or two, he thoroughly whipped my ass. Nonetheless, it was fun.
