I'm Not Laughing With You, I'm Laughing At You

When I'm getting ready to spend entire weekends at a tennis tournament with my kids, there are several things that go through my mind:

1. What should I pack in the cooler?
2. How much Gatorade will my boys suck down?
3. What are the match times?
4. What parents will I need to avoid?
5. What's the weather going to be like?
6. Who is their first opponent? Is he a cheater?
7. When will I be able to get to happy hour?
8. What should I wear?

While the answers to the first questions are usually pretty straight forward, deciding what to wear can be a complete pain in the ass, especially in the summer. After all, some of the tournaments are held indoors where the air conditioning is set to "Arctic," some of the tournaments are strictly outdoors in the sunshine and humidity, and some of them are a combination of indoors and outdoors. As a result, trying to pick an outfit that won't make me sweat profusely outside but will keep me warm during an indoor match, while also not making me look like a clueless moron, is a battle that I have yet to always win.

From last Thursday morning until Saturday night, I spent a total of 36 hours between two different tournaments and two tennis lessons. (If you think this sounds insane and now you think I'm a loser, congratulations, you are correct.) To make the weekend of sacrifice even more enjoyable, it was one of those situations where I didn't know where my kid was going to be playing until his match was called. Some were inside where it was freezing, some were outside in the sun, a couple were outside in the shade, and one was supposed to be outside but then moved inside at the last minute when a little thing like a tornado warning interfered with the tournament.

Unbelievably, I think I managed to pull off the wardrobe conundrum pretty well. I was only cold once, and I was never too hot, uncomfortable, or revealing too much skin. I also don't feel like I looked excessively idiotic, but please don't ask anyone else what they thought because it's very likely that their opinion will vary from mine.

There was another woman at the second tournament, though, that was obviously not very concerned about staying warm, being conservative or not looking idiotic. I'm not saying that her outfit was completely wrong, because after all, it would have been appropriate at:

• A monster truck rally
• A pole barn strip club
• A profitable corner in Amsterdam
• Any Forest Lake bar
• The Minnesota State Fair
• A trip to a northern Minnesota casino

I regret to say that I never had an opportunity to take a picture of her fine ensemble, but basically it consisted of a burn-out, see through tank top that made me wonder why she didn't just wear her wrong-sized push-up bra on the outside of her shirt, a way-too-short ill fitting denim miniskirt complete with muffin top, cork wedge sandals, a banana clip in her hair, and to top it all off -- a bright yellow cardboard pack of Natural American Spirit cigarettes tucked into the front pocket of her skirt.

Like I said before, I'm sure there are occasions where this outfit would be completely appropriate, but come on lady! You're at a highly competitive tennis tournament for 14 and 18-year-old boys, taking place on the courts of a Division I school, and when you weren't sitting directly across from the courts with your knees not together you were standing right outside the front doors sucking down heaters! The only thing I could think of was ICK!

Every time I saw this woman walk by I wanted to point at her and laugh, but the well mannered, I-don't-want-to-cause-a-scene side of me always prevailed and I would manage to simply walk right by her without so much as a sideways glance. But then...

I was telling a story to one of my friends about last week when I saw something really, really funny and I was pointing at the funny thing and laughing so hard, so of course I demonstrated to her how I pointed and laughed like "oh look at that ha ha can you believe it ha ha hoo ha ha" and of course right when I pointed to my right and was laughing like a lunatic Miss Natural American Spirit herself came sauntering by and I ended up pointing right at her, and laughing. Loud.

Did I feel bad? No. Was I shocked at the coincidence of it all? Yes. And after seeing the look on her face when she saw me pointing and laughing, did I then start laughing even harder? Absolutely.

I have to go to another tennis tournament at the same location this weekend. If she's there again, I'll try to get a picture.