So during the course of a first date, that involved dinner with 8 of my date's closest football buddies, I agreed to attend the Falcon's game with the cute boy on the following day. I had not been to a game in years so sounds fun, right?
For background, the dinner crew happens to be the same as the bunch who we will be tailagating with at the game. We stayed at dinner with the bodybuilder and his cute little wife ( small in stature, but not in spirit as I will later explain) , the jovial merrymaker and his pigtailed fiance' and several others until late in the evening. After which I decided it might be a good idea to chat directly with my date so we sat up talking until about 2am.
As most know, I like my sleep so when 8:30 rolled around and cute boy called to say he would be over in an hour to get me for tailgaiting, I was not bright eyed. Unless Red counts as bright.
We arrive at the site by10:30 and the gang is all there, All the aforementioned suspects plus a few more including Monkey, the Chef who wears a tiny child sized football helmet.
Since I work right around the corner from the "gulch" as the "gaiters" call it, I decided to run upstairs and knock out a few items so I could be better prepared fo the day on Monday. I hurriedly completed my task knowing that since I was holding the game tickets that my date was probably a bit unnerved that I was still MIA with less that 2 hours to kick-off.
I arrive back at the site to find that the plot thickens. In my absence, my date's brother in law and father have arrived, so we immediately get close and cozy.
I decide the situation calls for a few beers, and I quickly consume 3 budlightlimes. My surroundings suddenly seem more reasonable. It's one hour to game time and we proceed to the dome. The group is openly disappointed to see that my date is not wearing his usual facepaint. I don't mind so much.
I am informed that if I have a question, or actually anything at all to say during the game, that I need to confine my remarks to offensive plays. He will be way to busy during defensive action to be bothered with my blathering. I soon learn that even if I had chosen to speak during this part of the game that no one would have been able to hear me over the stomping, chanting and degredation of the opposing teams "spawn of satan" quarterback.
I learn during an offensive drive, that if i am to sit with this crew, that I will not merely sit, I will be expected to partipate. He explains that I dont have to stomp if i dont want to, but I will "roll the chains".
The end is near and the Falcons are winning. YAY. I am watching earnestly as a few CHEFS (otherwise known as CHIEFS when not defiled) fans opts to place their fat heads and bottoms right on front of our seats (which are long held and seriously cherished season ticket end zone seats on the 1st and second row) So I can't see, the lady behind me can't see, I'm annoyed, my date is increasing annoyed and ready to take action. After asking/demanding that the security in the endzone do the job they are paid for and remove these plagues on the falcon fans, no action is taken. My date informs the security guard that if they don't remove said obstacles, that he will do it himself. NOTHING, NOT a flinch from security. However the obstacle turned around in child like fashion and said "aw WaaaaHHH".
HMMM. Didn't go over well. My date instantly pushed the guy, who resultingly almost went flying over the railing and into the end zone but upon regaining his composure became quite angry and more beligerant. Shortly thereafter security came along to escort them all out of the building(my date included). At this point, I emerged from my hiding spot, nearly under a seat, and dutifully trotted up the stairs behind the testosterone I had accompainied to the event.
All in all, a fun night. Wonder what date three will be like. Of course i'm going. Where do get this kind of excitement nowadays outside of reality TV?
oh, and the little bodybuilder wife. While we are being escorted out of the building, my date's POSSE is setting the record straight with security and for full disclosure, they actually get us back into the game. Well, while this is underway, the wife is left unattended and strangers sit down in her seats and proceed to call her names starting with the B word and culminating with Cee U Next Tuesday. She pretty much kicks their ass and they get thrown out. Moral is Don't mess with little women, i think.
