Good girl/bad girl
While I identify with the former label, the latter one creeps up when I least expect it.
I’m literally strangling myself to keep from posting what I want to post. But in a roundabout way, let’s just say that I had plans with a friend tonight that deflated at the very last possible second, and because it involved sports tickets, I tried a handful of other people but alas, people already have plans a half-hour before stuff starts. (Who knew? But I did appreciate the invite to Union Station — I know, no one ever expects me to see the light of day on a weekday. Shocker!)
Thus, I went to see the Washington Capitals skate circles around the L.A. Kings down at Verizon Center (winning in overtime!) alone.
Yes, alone. I loved it. I had the time of my life. Our CEO had given away his seats in a raffle earlier this week, and my colleague had won. But because she was headed out of town and I happened to be standing next to her, I was the lucky beneficiary.
Not only did I get to see the game from “real” seats with a terrific view (instead of Peanut Heaven, where I swear to God, I developed a case of vertigo from being up so high. Did I mention I’m terrified of heights?), but I had almost three rows to myself. I sat next to the cameraman and saw myself on screen. Whee. But it was neat — this is how “real” people enjoy life. I am glad I didn’t miss out.
Well, let’s be clear — I had half the section to myself before the guy across the aisle came over to sit with me as we cheered the Caps into victory.
Apparently men find it hella sexy when a woman goes to a sporting event alone. And it’s even sexier, it seems, when that girl is cheering and booing and not noticing a goddamned thing around her except the beers she kept running out to get. (Twenty-five bucks for three beers. Sheesh.) But yeah, he told me he spent the game watching me, not his beloved hockey team.
Anyway, I’ll stop there, but yeah, I revisited being 23 (and not 32) in a big way. Don’t worry — my chastity is still (relatively) intact, and I did not give/take a phone number. But hoo boy, did I have the opportunity, in between making out all over D.C. and trying to NOT be tempted to go to a hotel despite many, many offers. …
Interesting night. Not what I planned (I was really going for low-key and full of laughs, initially) but memorable nonetheless.
God, you still have some explaining to do. But thanks for throwin’ a girl a bone (heh) now and again, even though I do question your motivation with this one. Perhaps I should have just invited W in the first place. …