This past weekend I went to The Chicago Brua House this weekend with a group of friends. Each person manned with their own personal 2 liter boot of beer, ranging from Berliner weisse to Spaten, the race had started in my mind. Even in the warm, inviting atmosphere my competitive nature came out. The polka music and chatter from the elderly crowd didn’t drowned out my desire to be number one!
A physiologist might attribute this to my place in the family. As the oldest of three boys I can understand that theory. My brothers and I would compete over the smallest of things, like which one of us did Mom love most. Tim was ruled out because he was the middle child and Joe was adopted. While that rational might have made sense to me, my brothers were quick to point out that Jan Brady is often a favorite middle child among viewers and Joe isn’t really adopted.
“ You are one of the most competitive people I know” Bev said to me this weekend. I was at first shocked but then realized she’s right. I’m always comparing myself to others. Orginizing people: according height weight, attractiveness, popularity, according to the scale that consists of better than me or below. Earlier that day at lunch, I boasted that I could finish and entire ketchup bottle on my own. I called Sarah a pussy cause she didn’t finish her Makers Mart and Coke quicker than I did. Even in pictures I have “Smile Off’s” to see who has the best Covergirl smile. Some might call this shallow I just call it striving for perfection.
I am no stranger to losing. I’ve gotten my fair share of finisher place ribbons during my swimming career. I know how to lose gracefully and with poise. Even after my heart surgery I always felt bad for the poor guy who would finish after me in the 200 butterfly. “I had heart surgery and I’m better than you” I say to myself as I put on my flip flops and headed to the hot tub. If I’m losing at a board game I claim that it is boring and stop playing or sometimes just “accidentally” knock over the game.
Back at the Brau House I came in third in the competition. Dan came in first by a mile and Jo and I had a chug off. She puked after so I think that she should be disqualified therefore defaulting me to second place. Second or Third it still not first and while I might not have the gold medal. I have a golden brown tan and no one can take that away from me.