Is the Editor in Chief a Hustler?

A dart board, much like this one, was used for the hustle

Editor-in-Chief Peter Arrabal and I have been friends since we were freshmen. Since then, we have been betting on the most random things. Whether it be poker, sports, video games, or tailgate games, Pete and I bet on everything. Above all things, our favorite thing to bet on is darts.

We haven’t been betting on as many things as we used to, however Derby Days sparked our “degeneracy.” When Delta Gamma and Alpha Gamma Delta were playing against each other in tug-of-war, Peter simply said “Five bucks on AGD.” Of course I took the bet, and of course I lost.

I couldn’t just give five dollars away, thats like five beers on dollar beer night, so I had to think of things to make some money. Thank God for video games. Peter is atrocious at video games, but the best part about it is that he thinks he is good. Therefore I said “15 bucks on FIFA, and you can be Brazil.”

I spanked him 3-0 in the first 25 minutes of the game, and he quit. I couldn’t believe he would just quit, but I didn’t care, I was up $10. Later on in the night, Peter got a false sense of security and bet double or nothing in FIFA. Plus 20.

My friends wanted to go to Bosshogs for $6 liquor pitchers, but Peter and I couldn’t see how that could benefit our betting, so we went to The Retreat to play darts. When we arrived, we found out that we missed the memo on “Pimps and Hoes” party that the bar was hosting. This did not bother us despite the fact that I was wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt and Peter wore his standard Under Armor hoody and khaki shorts, because we saw an open dart board.

We agreed that I would pay for the games and Peter would buy the dollar beers because at the end of the night, it should add up close to even. I won the first three games for $5, $10, $20 to be up $55 total. I am beginning to think that I am fitting into this party because I am now Peter’s pimp.

Feeling cocky, I showed Peter the back of my hand and told him, “Ho, get me two beers.” He agreed because he could tell that I was starting to feel the beers. I figured because I outweigh Peter by 40 pounds (Editor’s note: 60 pounds) that he had to be drunker that I was, but he showed no signs of it.

Peter left before the next game to order the beers and to break the seal, and I waited impatiently for him to arrive so I could win more money. Lezly the bartender brought me the next two beers and Peter was nowhere to be found. I thought it was good service, but now in hindsight I think Peter had her put something in my drink.

I lost the next two games for $20 and $15 respectively to bring us right back to where we started. After the last game, I realized that I would need to slow down on the drinking because there is no way that Peter should be beating me.

We decided that this would be the last game because I had class in six hours, and that it would be for $30. We arrived at $30 because I wanted to be back around $50, and ending up even is worse than losing in my book because it feels like a waste of time. Damn the drunk logic.

Halfway through the game, I had a commanding lead on Peter and starting to think about what I could spend the $50 on. “I’m going to double down. Let’s make this one for $60,” he said. I turned and looked at in Peter in shock and had to double check if he meant what he said. He told me he had a great feeling about this and of course I agreed.

Peter than was touched by the hand of Dart God because he did not miss for the rest of the game. He ended up beating me, taking my money, my pride and self esteem with it. All he could do was give that “I own you” smile, which upset me more.

I decided that if I tossed the chair it would make me feel better and it did. I then wanted someone else to lose their self esteem so I told a “pimp” that he lacked creativity because he wore a crush velvet suit and carried a cane. After the damage was done, I left the bar, and headed back for campus.

I stumbled throughout downtown and across campus telling Peter he was a waste of life, and that his beard was hideous. In turn, he came up with some witty comments that I could not refute, which just made me angry so I felt better about myself when I punched him in the arm and tossed him in the sprinkler.

After I felt more manly, Peter then went for the kill. “Remember the time that I owed you $20 and now you owe $40? Or the time that I doubled down with defeat staring me in the eye? You suck at life.” I had nothing to say, so I punched him one more time in the arm and we walked the rest of the way home. Editor’s note: It didn’t hurt. Yawn.

Side Note: Since that time of being hustled, I went on to beat him in Fifa for a total of $40, so we are even. I thought it was just drunk logic that hates me being even, but it’s also sober pride.

Editor’s note: Jon owes me $20 after I whipped him in FIFA 3-1. Go Portugal.