Beating Goliath

"Chris?"
My vision is hazy, not focused, and my mind is in deep thought.
I'm not really listening when she asks the question because the last one made me think, and all of a sudden I felt compelled to give my thoughts more attention, more attention then the audience- i.e. the lady across from me.
My mind is chasing windmills.
"Chris." She says again, and my thoughts drift away in the purple smoke of my brain.
"I'm sorry. What?"
But they're not gone entirely and I'm left with an enthusiastic feeling in my belly.
"What happened."
"When?"
I know exactly what she meant, what she wanted to know, but didn't feel like expalining the full escapade.
"The other night"
Well...what should I say here, to answer her, to get her off my case. I don't want to talk. I'm not in a very open mood.
"Blacked out." I say.
"That's typical."
"It happens." I say.
"Why? Any reason."
There always is.
"Just couldn't stop." I say.
"Why?"
"Or I just don't know my limit." I lie.
"That can't be. You call yourself a pro. You should know your limit."
"It happens." I lie.
"What's on your mind?"
"Don't you want to hear about my night?" I avoid her question.
"No, I want you to tell me what's on your mind, now."
"Nothing...I'm drawing blanks, listening to your pretty voice." I add in a tone that she might fall for.
"Don't flirt your way out of this one."
"Not trying to." I lie.
She pauses, then asks. "You can't win, can you?"
"I'm sorry?" I have no idea where she's taking this. Then realize, like a mind reader, she has tapped into my brain.
She's talking about my thought's subject matter. I think to myself that she's clever, and good at her job, and its always dangerous to talk with her, if you're not in the mood to talk and want to hold things back from the world.
"You've found someone that can beat you. Met your match, have you. You don't know what to do, how to handle the situation. You don't know how to lose."
I could answer the question a thousand ways.
"I can lose. I have lost. I am loosing."
She laughs. "Someone is better then you. Thats not your style."
I grin.
"You've found a challenge." She says.
"Something like that."
"And you don't know if you can win."
She's smart. She knows how to ask questions.
Losing.
At this.
With this oppertunity.
That terrifies me. I don't tell her that.
"I'll win," I say. But she knows that I'm not confident.