When I came into the office Monday morning and people asked me
how the Beat the Queen competition went, I gave them an honest
answer.
”
I may have gotten ripped off,
”
I said.
When I came into the office Monday morning and people asked me how the Beat the Queen competition went, I gave them an honest answer.
“I may have gotten ripped off,” I said.
“Huh?”
“The Garlic Queen took her hand off the skillet. I think I should have won the flame-up, the third challenge.”
“You’re not really going to write that are you?”
If you picked up the paper Tuesday, you already know the answer to that question. It may have been petty to title the article “Burned by the Queen,” but I don’t care. Call me the Larry David of this generation’s sports writers.
I’ve never been graceful in defeat.
I once collided with a girl (on accident) in a co-ed flag football game because my team was losing and we needed to make a play. I probably didn’t need to use her back to push myself up off the ground, but it was a heat-of-the-moment kind of thing. I’m sure you get it.
The other team didn’t, though, and I was forced to leave the game.
Then there was a lunch time musical chairs challenge I took part in at a former job. Even though I had already legitimately won the contest, the outcome was called into question and one co-worker and I were forced to go around again.
Two people. One chair.
Feeling like the game was rigged – I was in the worst position possible when, I’m sure by complete coincidence, the music stopped- I decided to grab the chair just as my challenger was throwing herself into the seat. Luckily, she didn’t break her tail bone from the fall.
I’ve never received more dirty looks at one time.
Of course, by that time I had put the chair down and myself in it.
So, when I wrote that 2006 Garlic Queen Sheena Torres played a bit of dirty pool in the decisive third portion of the three-part challenge (we also did rock climbing and garlic braiding), I expected there to be some sort of fallout.
How dare you insult the Queen! Off with his head!
Instead, I got a laundry list of penalties I committed during the challenge, penned by none other than Ms. Torres.
“Did I complain that you had your hands already placed on the rock wall before we started the climbing competition, which allowed you to win by a hair?” the Queen wrote in an e-mail. “And did I say anything about you committing the Gourmet Alley crime of spilling food out of the skillet while mixing in ingredients?”
What had I done?
By calling her out for one infraction, she came back two-fold.
Yeah, I had my hands on the rock. And yeah, I spilled food. Busted.
My protesting obviously didn’t do much good with many of you, as the web poll attached to Tuesday’s column has the Queen still deserving of the title with 63 percent of the vote. (I won’t say how many times I voted for myself.)
With the confidence one would expect from the finest of all garlic gals, Ms. Torres decided to toss a little salt my way for good measure.
“You need to take a long, hard look at yourself,” she wrote, “and think about whether or not you should be spending your time complaining about losing or preparing for next year’s competition.”
Burned again.
You can still vote online for a winner by going to Gilroydispatch.com
