The key to successfully reserving a squash court is preparation. For example, if you’re planning to reserve a squash court in the next month, you should prepare right now by rehearsing your name.
Oh sure, you think, like I don’t know my own name. That’s not the point. The question is: can you say it? Think about it: you often say other people’s names… you know, like when you say I love you, Britney to your significant other (most of you probably don’t use the name Britney, you probably use the actual name of your significant other – and I wish I had thought of that before I said I love you, Britney to Kate).
But how often do you really say your own name? Not often enough for squash reservations. Besides, in the midst of the transaction, it can be hard to remember. Take, for example, my attempt to reserve a court the other day.
I was waiting to get the attention of the reservation person at a local squash club, when she turned in my general direction and said, “Gilbert is back.”
Some moments elapsed before I looked behind me and realized that I was the only one present. Another few seconds passed before I felt up to the task of commenting on her pronouncement.
“Gilbert who?” I dared.
“Gilbert Fontaine.”
“Where was he?” I asked, not willing to admit that I had never before heard of Gilbert Fontaine.
“Zimbabwe.”
“I didn’t know he had been to Zimbabwe.” A true statement.
“Well, I am pretty sure that he has. Or else how could he have got back?”
I considered her point.
“Would it be okay if I reserved a squash court?” I ventured. She looked decidedly nonplussed, but asked me when I would like one.
“Next week. Same time?”
“Same time as what?”
“Same time as my court time for today?” I carefully inserted the question mark so as not to seem presumptuous.
“Who are you?” It was a fair question. Although there was some sense that I might know Gilbert Fontaine, I was pretty sure I had never met him, so it seemed reasonable that this woman wouldn’t know my name.
“Will Carlin.” There was a long pause as she looked through today’s reservations for my name.
“I think Gilbert lost the girl he loved.” Back to Fontaine, then.
“Oh?” I said, looking at the reservation book and noticing that she was looking at the noontime courts. No harm in that, I guess, but it was almost 10pm, and it seemed to me unlikely that I had been there for ten hours. Particularly since I was fairly sure I had been at work earlier in the day.
“Yes, I figured it out because of the suitcase. I really don’t see your name here; are you sure you played today?”
Gently, I leaned over the desk and pointed out my name in the 9pm slot, trying not to let the sweat from my just-finished match drop onto the page. “You see, it is right here.”
“That doesn’t say ‘Lou’.” She was right, of course. My head was starting to hurt, and I began to consider that our conversation had become sordid.
“No, my name is Will.”
“You said ‘Lou’ before.” You can see now how practicing my name might have helped the situation. I wasn’t really sure what to say at this point.
“Sorry,” was what came out.
“It’s okay. He used to use a suitcase with someone else’s initials, now he has a new one. 9pm next week then.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Do you think Gilbert might want to go out with me?” Ah, there was the rub.
“I don’t see why not,” I replied, stepping back from the desk ever so slowly.
“Thanks, Lou. See you next week.”
I nodded slowly, distracted by the whole interaction, and said, “Okay. Bye, Britney.”
Oh no, I thought, I did it again. Just like with Kate. But here is the thing, and I want you to follow me very closely here. This is the moment where you might lose my main point, which, of course, is that practice makes perfect – even when reserving a court. You see, sometimes, you hit that nick even though you haven’t practiced it; sometimes, your forehand just clicks; and sometimes, you just get, well, lucky.
“How did you know my name?” she asked.
