Thwack a tennis ball

LOCATION: Georgetown Park, 32nd & R st. EQUIPMENT: Tennis racquets, joie de vivre. OPTIONAL (if you're lucky): Magnificent classy friend who has packed little ziploc bags of strawberries and almonds.

There are a few open courts around DC, but the best are in the park in Georgetown at 32nd & R (next to Dumbarton Oaks, about which more later.) There are four courts, pretty good quality - likely to all be full on a sunny weekend day, but if you sit in the grass something usually opens up within half an hour.

I went to play on Sunday with a good friend. This is how you can tell the kind of person she is: our court opened up, and I ran to the bathroom; when I came back, she was all set up on one side of the court. We played an hour and a half, and I noticed that she would always wait for my serve on the left side of the court. I didn't pay it much mind - thought maybe she was favoring her forehand - until it dawned on me that the one little corner she waited in was the only part of her side that was shaded from the blazing sun. The dawning unfolded further: my side of the court was in complete shade.

This is the kind of detail that it's a lot easier not to notice when you're the comfortable one. "Oh my gosh," I said, "do you want to switch sides?" She nodded, "Yes...but are you sure you won't get a sunburn?" (!)

Dear reader, it was hot over there, and the sun shone into your eyes, making it hard to see the ball. Not miserable, but a very noticeable impediment. I thought back to our previous tennis games and I have no memories of noticing the sun in my eyes. Which implies that Mehr had probably subtly maneouvred herself onto the uncomfortable side of the court every single time, without letting me know.

When I do things like that, I usually spend the rest of the week smugly congratulating myself in private on my own niceness, thereby erasing most of the good karma through gloating. But I think that for Mehr, it's as natural as breathing - I'm sure if she reads this, she will protest that it's not a big deal. It's a nice way to live.