Henry and I never go out. I think the last time was when we went to see Thrice back in November, and it was good until the end when some guy started pushing me and Henry acted like he knew nothing about it.
I had a pack of four tickets to a Wheeling Nailer’s game that I bought a few weeks ago from one of those “just pay half” sites, thinking it would be cool to double-date with my sister, since she lives in Wheeling and we both like hockey. Henry and I dropped Chooch off at his Aunt Kelly’s house (bless her!!!) on Saturday afternoon and for the first time in forever, spent time in the car without a loud-mouthed child screaming MOMMY!!!!! DADDY!!!! every two seconds and calling us bitches.
It was glorious. Except for the part where Henry donned the Professional Driver cap and began weaving and veering through back roads and I was so anxious, staring at the clock, knowing we weren’t going to be in Wheeling by the designated meeting time of 5:00pm.
He drives the SPEED LIMIT for Christ’s sake!
Other than that, I was doubled over with giddiness. It was practically a date! We were acting like a real couple! God, was it ever exciting. So exciting that I put on Of Mice and Men (the band, not the book) real loud and Henry started complaining when I kept tugging his arm up in a roof-raising motion, and then I thought it would be fun to try to kill him and he was shouting, “Hello, not while I’m DRIVING!”
Oh man, just like old times.
We were about ten minutes late, and my sister Amy and her boyfriend Dick were already waiting for us at River City, where we decided to meet for drinks because I hear that’s what grown people do. It was kind of awkward at first, mostly because of Henry’s social displacement, but once the beers (and my lame amaretto sour) arrived, everyone started loosening up and Henry began to be scared of the similarities shared by my sister and me. And I think Dick thought I was retarded, maybe?
My favorite part was when Dick asked Henry what he did for a living. Dick is a doctor so Henry, feeling inadequate, mumbled something about working for a beverage company and I considered shouting, “HE PLAYS WITH FAYGO ALL DAY” but didn’t want to embarrass him. I mean, any more than he already is just by being my boyfriend.
Henry hated our waitress for not knowing anything about the beer on tap, and he went to the bar to look at the beer selection for himself. Then he told the bartender he hated the waitress. Then we got a new waitress! This one was trying unsuccessfully to cover a black eye with orange foundation. She made me feel uncomfortable, like I had an uncredited role in a Lifetime movie.
By the time we left to walk across the street to the arena, it seemed like everyone liked each other (except for Henry and me, but, well….duh) and I would have been more happy about that if I wasn’t busy panicking about redeeming our tickets. I get nervous about things like this! I’m tightly wound. When I slid the email confirmation printout under the glass at the will call booth, the man began asking me a torrent of questions, like: “Did you call the box office?” and “Did the box office call you?”
I was a nervous wreck. “No!” I answered to both questions. Was he going to tell us to leave? Would we have to work for the tickets? Because I might, MIGHT, give some oral for a ticket but no way am I mopping a floor.
Then he typed some stuff on his computer and handed me 4 tickets.
JUST LIKE THAT.
No one else seemed impressed or surprised. I’m not sure exactly what I was expecting to happen, the gestapo to swarm from all sides, handcuff me and put me away for being violating some serious Wheeling ticket embargo by just paying half on some seedy illegitimate website created by scamming Nigerians.
Once we found our seats, Henry and Dick went off to do Men Things, like buy beer and clap each other on the back a lot. Meanwhile, I explained to Amy that the Nailers had to win that night, since they were playing my least favorite in the entire world, Cincinnati.
“That’s where Christina’s from,” I reminded her. “So there’s A LOT on the line for me.” I think she’s beginning to realize that every little thing in my life is OMG so DIRE, because she just let out a little laugh and said, “Oh, yeah that’s right.”
While Henry and Dick were getting beer, the game started. Literally twenty seconds into it, the Nailers scored. I gloated when Henry came back. (With beer in kids cups, no less.)
I hated the people in front of me. They kissed with open mouths. They were there with their kids! They probably all sleep in the same bed, too. Naked. It was awful to spectate.
Henry spent most of the game obsessing over the fact that the family in front of him belonged to Spike the Mascot. I’m surprised he didn’t send out numerous tweets about it. “You know how Spike came over and kissed that baby?” he asked in an excited hush. “That’s because it’s his DAUGHTER.” He looked so pleased with himself. I asked him how he found out and it was because he overheard the conversation the baby’s mom was having with the Jesus impersonator sitting next to us.
You’d have thought he called up Shane Donovan of the ISA (whaddup Days of Our Lives fans) and had a DNA test ran.
Throughout the game, I kept trying to be affectionate with Henry. In normal ways, like flicking his face and pounding his knee with my fist in lieu of clapping along to the “Let’s Go Nailers” chants. He kept pushing me away! Can you believe that.
In the second period, Crapinnati got a lucky goal and Jesus rose in jubilation. Figures Jesus would be rooting for a team that hails from Judas’s town.
And then I noticed there was an entire section full of Ohioans, hollering for their dumb team.
“What are they called, the FLAPPERS??” I asked Henry incredulously.
“No, retard. The Cyclones. How do you get Flappers from Cyclones?” Because people from Ohio don’t know how to cheer properly.
Anyway, the Nailers came back to score three unanswered goals, and Jesus wept. Happy Easter, asshole!
Apparently, the Nailers didn’t have a very good season (they didn’t even clinch a playoff berth) but you’d never be able to tell by the way they played during their last game of the season. Every three minutes, I had a new favorite player. It was a great game and awesome to hang out with my sister again!
By the time we left though, I was starving, which meant it was time to fight with Henry. “You’re a fucking bitch when you’re hungry,” he yelled, and then we remembered we have a kid and had to go retrieve him.