Holly Golightly on a Tennis Court (6-3)

We lost doubles in quick fashion. We went down 6-1, although I felt I was playing well and making some good shots, especially because I haven't been playing that much.
It wasn't long before I was up for my singles match. I was so nervous. I even felt shaky. Things started out normal with both of us holding serve, but then something took hold of me. I willed myself to take it easy, not get stressed out and just try to play. For once it worked, I was skipping around and my shots were doing what I wanted them to do. Weird backhand slice drop shots, the loopy but safe forehand, the serve, the backhand down the line, passing shots, things were clicking in a way they normally don't. As I changed sides, two of the guys watching were giggling.
"Why are you laughing at me?" I asked, assuming the topic of conversation was me.
"We can't tell you right now. We'll tell you later," one of them said.
Things went on fine, until I was up 5-2. During the game, the woman I was playing asked me how old I was. I didn't want to tell and she made some comment about it. I tried to laugh it off, but I was thinking about it. I had match points in that game, but didn't win any of them. I was broken for the first time. I was somewhat worried but tried to calm down. The next game got even stickier. I had more match points but couldn't convert. I didn't know whether to play safe or aggressive, to junk ball or swing out. Luckily, she was being aggressive and I was forced into defensive mode, scrambling for a hard volley away from me and hitting a strange slice-lob over her head. It got to 2nd deuce, which is a sudden death point. I somehow found a way to be aggressive and won the point and the set on what I think was my 5th or 6th match point. Luckily it didn't go any further, I don't know what would have happened if it had.
Yikes, that match was a little of everything. Hitting well and effortless. Hitting well through nerves. Succumbing to nerves and hitting badly. Playing passively and missing easy shots. And some luck.
After the match, I went up to the guys who were giggling at me earlier.
"What were you laughing at?" I asked again.
"I just said, 'You have a very Holly Golightly way of playing tennis.' And then he said 'I can see him in a little black dress and pearls.'"
"I'll take that as a compliment," I laughed.
At least through all the inner torment and tribulations, I can look like I'm just having fun.