He insisted we call him Bennett, after all, it was his name, but we were all like, fuck that, you’re Benny, and so, he became Benny. Inadvertently, the rest of us were called The Jets, and truth be told, it sucked ass. The implication that we were so insignificant that we became a collective bordered on pathetic. It was disheartening, as well as bad for our self worth.
Instead of fighting the diminutive nickname, we accepted it like grown ass men. Naturally, we joined a bowling league. It should come as no surprise that we were horrible, which goes to prove, you can’t hide behind a catchy name and flashy shirts.
Benny would go on to marry a horrible person, who banned him from hanging with us since we were a “bad influence.” We would go on being called Benny and The Jets without him, and after three years, our game never improved.