What Happens in Vernal...

How about I start with the raddest story from Vernal first, and go from there?

Right on.

Anyway, when I arrived, I immediately declared "Howie Week." As everyone knows, Howie Week is when I hit a town with a list of things I demand to do with the people there. Sometimes Howie Week is just a weekend in Ogden where I decide I need to go bouldering, longboarding, and snowboarding, all in two days. Vernal's Howie Week really just consisted of bowling and some good Mexican food. Bowling was set for Wednesday.

When the big day rolled around, we all headed out to Dinah Bowl. Upon arrival, we were informed that leagues were in session and that we'd need to come back in an hour. "No problem," we said. "We'll be back."

Everyone went to their ATMs and stuff and reconvened at the alley a half-hour later. A different girl with the kind of face that only years of scowling at out-of-towners can create told us that no, there would be no bowling after leagues, because they "had school tomorrow."

I was peeved, but the evening was not ruined. Instead, we decided to go to the brand-new recreation center for some pinging, and, if lucky, ponging. In spite of the unfortunate circumstance that nobody could drink beer while playing, everyone came along. I had a standing rivalry with one Reid that needed taking care of, and I quickly dispatched him during the first match (by quickly I mean an never ending volley at the end of what was easily a 30-point game) before taking out another. I then lost, and went to play some pool.

Upon returning I found that one of our party had struck up a bit of a volley with an honest-to-goodness asian player from the table over. These guys were taking the game pretty seriously, as it is meant to be taken, and sported the authentically Chinese pen grip. As I walked up, I took up the paddle and faced off against a decidedly non-english-speaking opponent. Our styles matched up well, the game progressed at a furious pace, and I emerged victorious.

Then, American flag draped over my shoulders, I was paraded around the track for a victory lap. Our nation's dominance over Red China was again asserted, just like it was in virtually every non-judged Olympic event.

First of all, that last part may not have happened. Second of all: Oh Snap, I went there.

I then proceeded to lose a string of games, including two in a row to Reid (he always always gets the last win), and went home all razzed up.

And that, my friends (ha ha McCain lost), is my first Vernal story.

Discuss it amongst yourselves while I compose the next one.