I grew out of another pair of pants today. That is, my ass grew out of another pair of pants today. Luckily it didn't literally grow "out" of my pants. That would have been embarrassing. Again. So, because I'm out of pants, tomorrow I'm going to wear a skirt for the first time in years. For the first time since one of my employees thought that calling me "legs" all day was appropriate. Here's a hint, it's not.
One time, when I lived in Calgary, a group of us went to see a Flames game. We were poor students so our seats were way up high in the highest section ever to be built. At some point, near the beginning of the game, there was this contest in my section to see who could be the loudest fan. Turned out, the loudest fan was my boyfriend at the time. Because of his yelling ability we both got to go sit three rows from ice level right behind the goalie. They were pretty sweet seats.
The sweetness of the seats meant that we had to make a big huge deal about it and walk down the stairs from our crappy seats to the super great seats on the jumbo-tron so everyone could see what yelling like an idiot gets you.
We waited at the top of the stairs for a while until it was our time to shine. I was feeling a little apprehensive about being on the jumbo-tron in front of a billion people but whatever, I got to sit right behind the net for $20.00. Good deal.
We talked to the promo lady for a while and she told us that today was a special night because it was the mascot dog's last night ever and here's a giant foam bone you can have in honour of this special and sad occasion. And, oh, it's a hat actually so maybe you could wear it on your head? So, I put it on my head because I'm a good sport and the dog was standing right there and I didn't really want to offend him on his last day and all.
Then came the music. It was time to walk down 50 thousand stairs to our super fantastic seats. Of course it was a bit embarrassing, what with me having a giant foam bone on my head but, again, it was all worth it for the seats. Until my boyfriend started cheering and screaming, as if reliving the screams of obnoxiousness that won us the tickets.
And then he ripped the giant foam bone off of my head with his teeth. That pretty much topped the night off.
I was so mortified with embarrassment that either I was going to laugh or cry. I chose to laugh. And did I laugh. I couldn't stop. And I still laugh to this day.
After the game someone came up to me and said that boy, my boyfriend was sure drunk and I was like, yeah totally. But he wasn't. He hadn't had one drink. He was just a complete moron.
Sometimes that's all it takes.