Did you know that multitasking isn't actually a thing? It's true. At least, not the way most people understand it. When you multitask, you're not actually doing two things at the same time, you're just rapidly switching back and forth between two focuses. Our brains can't split focus in half the way we assume it can.
I remember telling that to my girlfriend Lindsay once. She said it was bullshit. I wasn't surprised, because Lindsay loves multitasking whenever she can. When we first met in college, she would watch TV while doing her homework. She does the dishes while she talks to her mom. And, God help us all, she texts while she's driving. She's the kind of person so full of energy that doing one thing at a time bores her to death.
The issue has always been that you can easily tell which task she likes more by her results. After a night of homework, she could excitedly recount the plot of whatever show she was watching, but she would get a "D" on her assignment. She and her mom would laugh and laugh, but the dishes would have spots on them. Luckily, there haven't been any casualties yet, but Lindsay is the only person I know who has clipped more than one mailbox.
But I couldn't be too mad at her. I love her too much. I just looked at the goofy smile on her face as she tried to do something dumb like cook while playing a game on her phone, and my affection outweighed my annoyance every time.
Maybe I should have made a bigger deal out of it. Hindsight is 20/20.
...
I always hated the Friday night pickup games, but I had no choice but to go. They were a part of the company culture. I work closely with a small ten-person team at a newish tech startup, and if I didn't play, I would be the only one who wasn't there.
It wouldn't have been so bad if it wasn't for 'Lightning'. I hadn't heard of it before I was forced to attend the games, but it's supposedly a common basketball drill. It's competitive free throws more or less. Everyone lines up behind the free-throw line, and with two balls, the line starts shooting one by one. If the person behind you sinks a shot before you can, you're out. You keep playing until there is just one winner. We had ended up playing a round of lightning after each pickup game to cool down.
Weeks ago, my douchebag team lead, Aidan, had suggested that to make things interesting: the first man out would have to buy drinks and food for the winner when we went out afterward. I fucking hate Aidan. He's a spoiled rich kid who was only made team lead in the first place because his dad was a big investor in the company. It would have been easier to write him off if he sucked at the job, but management loved him. He had been flagged as a rising star in the company, a fact that absolutely went to his head. He was attractive, but spoiled it, in my opinion, by being overly aware of that fact, always swaggering around with a look he thought was "dreamy" and using any excuse he could find to take his shirt off.
He used to ignore me completely, but at this point, he hated me just as much as I did him. Aidan had a bad habit of pursuing women who were already taken. I think he got off on the idea that he was so irresistible that he could get women to cheat. I told you: fucking douchebag. The first time I brought Lindsay to an after-work hangout, Aidan marked her as his prey immediately. It wasn't the first time Lindsay had attracted unwanted male attention. Her infectious positive energy and instinctive friendliness were misinterpreted by a lot of guys as flirtation, and her hot little curvy body led to a lot of... wishful thinking from the men she met.
I came back from the bathroom to see Aidan making that fucking face again, leaning forward over a bar table towards my beautiful girlfriend, who was snorting and giggling at whatever he had just said. I knew exactly what game he was trying to play. I practically dragged Lindsay across the bar by her arm to escape him. She thought I was overreacting at first, but when I fully explained my concerns, she was as annoyed as I was. She answered Aidan coldly the next time he tried to speak with her, and, when he didn't get the message, gave him a ringing slap.
After that, Aidan didn't like me that much.
He had suggested the game of lightning because he knew he would tend to win and I would tend to lose. The rest of the team agreed because they are a pack of spineless ass-kissers. Aidan had suggested team basketball games in the first place because he had played in college: it was another opportunity to show off. On the other hand, while I wouldn't call myself unathletic, I was no match for the bros on my team. I didn't embarrass myself while playing in teams on the court, but I didn't stand much of a chance in head-to-head competition.
I had lost the game four weeks in a row, and Aidan had been the winner each time. He had rubbed it in each time and had made a big show of ordering the most expensive thing on the menu wherever we went after the game when he knew I would be forced to pay for it. The ass-kissers found it extremely funny.
This particular Friday was no exception. In a humiliatingly short time, I found myself sitting on the bench by the court, watching for another five minutes before the next person got out. Finally, after what seemed like forever, Aidan was once again the winner.
"Ho-lee FUCK!" He yelled, turning to me with a cruel grin on his face, "That was fucking embarrassing, Airball!" He used the nickname that he had come up with based on my performance on the court. It was catching on around the office. "It took you... what? Thirty seconds to lose this time?"
I just sat in grim silence. Aidan's taunts ended sooner if you didn't respond. It looked like there was yet another big expense in my future from paying for Aiden's order, as well as a whole evening of ridicule as we went out for dinner and drinks as a team. I seethed internally.
"Tell you what, Airball," said Aidan, spinning a basketball on his finger, "I feel bad taking your money every week. I'll make a bet with you. If you can make one free throw before I make ten, I'll buy your dinner after every game."
"Are you fucking serious, Aidan?" I said bitterly. I knew the best policy was to ignore him, but now he was pissing me off. Sure, Aidan was better than me, but he wasn't ten times better than me. This was just him showing off in his cruel, arrogant way. I got up from my seat, feeling anger bubble up inside of me. "Let's play then, asshole."
Aidan bounced the ball, hard into my stomach. "Don't you want to know what I get if I win, Airball?" He said with a cocky grin. The wind had been knocked out of me by the pass, but I grunted something with a question mark at the end.
"I get to have sex with that little slut who's dumb enough to date you."
