I should get the ultimate award for being a good sport. Or for being gullible. Or for having no shame whatsoever.
Okay, so here's the downlow. My bestie Tiburon is in Tucson doing the JDRF Ride to the Cure. It tags along with Tour de Tucson. It's her big event of the whole year, and this was her first year as coach of the Utah chapter. So of course, we been in contact back and forth as she kept me updated on all the fun stuff.
Turns out Bill Walton is the celebrity rider for the Tour de Tucson! Okay, while we all know I am a HUGE Yankees's fan, I am also a fan of basketball and some of the great legends. Bill Walton is big name. A college championship, two NBA championships, a hall of famer, and then overcame a stuttering problem and became a great color analyst. Anyone who knows NBA, knows who he is.
So when I hear that he's there at the ride, I am ORDERING Tib to get his autograph for me. I know if the opportunity presented she would do it, she's not afraid to approach people. I had full faith in her.
Sunday, she posts on Facebook that she is sitting in a hot tub with Bill Walton! WT FLAGNON?!?!?! I am madly commenting telling her to get a autograph! Some back and forth, some other friends jump into the conversation, and it is apparent that there are some who are fans and some who dislike him as a person. I only knew GOOD things about him, and I WANTED AN AUTOGRAPH! Of course, Tib is in the hot tub so no pen and paper handy, but I warned her with EVERY FIBER OF MY BEING, that if she ran into him again, I didn't care what she pulled out of her purse, a receipt, scrap of paper with her gum in it, a spare tampon......I didn't care just get his autograph!
I leave it at that, and continue on with my normal Sunday morning, Facebooking, pretending to care about football, reading blogs etc. I stepped away to shower, and when I check my phone next there is a text from a number I didn't recognize:
"Hello Melissa. I have a friend of yours who insists I say hi to you because she doesn't have a pen and paper.
All the best, BW"
Holy mother of NBA!!! I start screaming at Splenda! "oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh!! Bill Walton JUST SENT ME A TEXT!!!!! Holy freak! I am beyond giddy, literally shaking with excitement. I could picture it. They are standing there and with Tib's wit and humor gets him to send the text. He uses a phone (not his own cause I could be a crazy) and sends a simple text for fun! Giddy I tell you! I was beyond excited!!
I send back a message:
"Thank you! I am seriously peeing with excitement! The famous Bill Walton! College championship! Two NBA championships! Amazing color guy! Thanks!"
I.kid.you.not. Yes, I said peeing myself with excitement to an NBA legend. Count them SEVEN exclamation points. Gushing much?
After I sent it, and I was patting myself on the back for having a text convo with THE Bill Walton, I decide to call Tib and just make sure it wasn't a hoax.
I get her on the phone (not even saying hello)
Me: "Tell me that wasn't a hoax!"
Tib: "Wha? What are talking about?"
Me: "You know! The text - tell me it wasn't a hoax!"
Tib: "I have no idea what you are talking about"
Me: "You didn't just have Bill Walton text me?"
Tib: "NO! I'm waiting for a friend to pick me up for lunch! I don't even know what you're talking about you dork!"
Huh. Strange. I start racking my brain as to who was a part of the Facebook conversation and suddenly my mind turns to a certain feisty, diabolical red head who would pull this kind of an evil stunt.
I dial Chief and get her on the phone (not even saying hello)
Me: "If you sent that text, I am gonna kid your redheaded ass down the street!"
Chief: Howling with laughter. Can't speak. Snorting, chortling, and basically rolling all over her bed in hysterics. And not just her, but her whole family is having a grand time laughing their arses off at how I fell for it all!
I give her props. She got me. Hook,line and sinker! And of course, I find it hysterical. Okay, a little sad that it wasn't the real deal, but honestly a great prank. I was punk'd! And punk'd good! I wish I could think of something that clever!
The only thing that could make this any better is if I trip over myself while climbing the podium, with my skirt tucked into my nylons, to claim my trophy as the Most Gullible Girl of the year!