Creative Nonfiction

Beautiful Slop

It’s like a disease. It gets in your blood. Something clicks in your head and you can’t get away from it, and you don’t want to either.
—ASTRID COIL

ALMOST ALL OF THEM, at some point in the game, told me to kiss it. One said it with respect, holding eye contact with me and speaking in a low, steady voice. This made me feel as if we were collaborating on something important.

There were two men who put their arms around me from behind—their hands gently moving my right elbow backward under the pretense that I was being given a lesson—and hiss the ss into my ear. If the ball went in during that tutorial? It was thanks to their help. And if not? It was the result of my lack of skill, of course.

My least favorite way to hear those two words was when they were said in a bored tone, as if the speaker was playing a video game.

I heard many times, and only from

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