Bottle Cap Shuffle

Strolling away from the apartment around noon, I trotted down to the concrete picnic tables near the ball courts. Right on the weathered concrete slab sat an abandoned checkered cardboard game board and a lone red metal crown bottle cap. Talk about prime street shuffleboard! I stepped back three paces in my slide sandals, gave my shoulders an exaggerated cartoon shimmy, and took aim at the center square. With a sharp flick of my index finger—*zing-skrrrrt!*—the cap skated across the gritty surface, kissed a rusty tabletop bolt with a crisp ping, and spun to a halt dead-center on the target. Undefeated outdoor grandmaster strikes again!