Getting the Hell Out Of Dodge(Ball), A Personal Account

by JENNIFER WRIGHT · March 9, 2009

The t-shirts lured me in. I love events that have their own t-shirt (like Free Peanut Butter Week at Grand Central station). Besides, I heard the blogerati would be there. In fact, the only hesitation I had regarding attending the dodgeball party was that I’d never, ever used dodgeball. It has a lot to do with being unreasonably resistant to new technology (I was that jerk kid with the Olivetti typewriter in high school). Also, I have this awesome thing called a cell phone that allows me to call my friends when I want them to meet me someplace. 

Still blogerati events = free drinks from John Carney for everyone! Or at least, passably attractive females. Sometimes there are also cupcakes. I love nothing more than free whiskey and cupcakes. So I decided that I would pretend to mourn dodgeball, a task which closely resembles acting, or, as some call it, lying. Here’s a primer on how to mourn dodgeball if you’re not actually mourning it for real::

Pretend it’s someone’s grandmother. Not necessarily your grandmother, or mine for that matter, but someone’s. Maybe one of the grandmothers handing out free peanuts at Grand Central? If that doesn’t work, try to think of the scene from the Disney classic where the Fox and the Hound realize they can never again be friends. Rename the fox “dodgeball”. Cry. Cry a little bit.

Pick the most obvious password ever at Bowery Electric. Sometimes I try to get clever with the passwords, like thinking this one could be “Spaghetti western!” Or “John Wayne”. Or “Middle school.” No. The password was “Dodgeball.” The password is always “dodgeball” or “Katie’s birthday party” or something stupid like that.

Don’t go overboard. Yes, Soraya and Caroline are adorable in their dodgeball t-shirts, and it might occur to you to try to buy one at the last minute as well, but no. Dressing in dodgeball attire will make people start throwing around jargon about “checking in” and some “last night in dodge” report, on some tumblr, which, if you don’t have dodgeball is probably another thing you don’t have.

Do White People Looking Serious Pictures with Nick McGlynn. Not because you always do them, but because this is a situation that makes white people feel serious.

Repeat after me, “dodgeball changed my life.” It’s best to practice this one while staring at yourself in the bathroom mirror.  Stop. Don’t laugh. In a way it’s true, right? Because you now have a life changing glass of free whiskey in your right hand, and a cupcake in your left. (Though, actually, since neither Julia Allison nor Rachel Kramer Bussel was there, there were no cupcakes at all.)

As you stumble home in the early hours of the morning, you can congratulate yourself on having fooled them all! Or at least, the people you did not immediately confess having no knowledge of dodgeball to.  And now that it’s dead, you’ll never need to worry about it again. Hurrah! And then, at that moment, someone is going to send you a message telling you about “Four Square”.