cheating

Last night I played darts with my friend S. and her brother N. in one of those smoky bars that leave smoke seeping out of your pores for days, even if you never held a cigarette. S. knows what she's doing, and N. used to be the darts champion of his neighborhood bar in Korea (they gave him his own set of darts, kept in a shot glass behind the counter for him), and I, they tell me, throw a dart like one would throw a baseball, with too much arm. I think it's necessary just to tell you upfront that I lost. I didn't lose that badly, but that was mostly the result of the fact that I took some extra "practice" rounds while S. was in the bathroom and when I accidentally hit a triple 15 and an 18, exactly what I needed, N. let me put them on the board. (Shhhhhh!) I'm a total feminist and stuff, but sometimes it's nice to be the wimpy girl who can't throw. And therefore is allowed to cheat.