special seating

One of the greatest comforts in my life is the knowledge that no matter what I am going through, no matter the struggle there is someone who has been through that struggle and someone who is going through that struggle as well.  I don’t like to talk to people about my legitimate problems because that’s gauche but knowing you’re not alone is a huge comfort.  I read so many pronouncements of sadness on Facebook and hope that the poster is doing so for the support of others, “you’re not alone, bro!”

The other great thing about life is that when you’ve reached my age you have a veritable cornucopia of experiences to draw from in any situation but you haven’t reached that age where you cannot remember what you did in the past that worked.  If there was a bell curve of life I am pretty confident that I am at that halfway point.  Unfortunately, this may be the best I ever get but I am here and okay with it.

Friday last presented me with a great opportunity to use both of these pieces of information that I have: one is never alone in trouble and look to your past for solutions in the present.  We went to the local university’s football game for a friend’s birthday, a client furnished me with reduced admission tickets and we were set for a good time.  

False.  The client secured us tickets in the no-drinking section.  Bear in mind it is rarely my intention to have too much to drink and because I’m an unrepentant miser in superfluous areas I rode to the game with my boss; I’m not having too much to drink in that situation.  The problem arose in that one drinks at least a little at a sporting event especially when one aspires to be a British soccer hooligan when they grow up so “one drink” turns into “I have no cash on hand for the homeless this morning, what the hell happened?” 

We didn’t know we were in the no drinking section so when we arrived at the stadium we found our seats, watched the kick off and then went in search of the obligatory drink.  It was also my common-law best friend’s birthday and as the drinks were wee and he wasn’t there I had two because that is as good an excuse as any to have two and I am a twelve-year-old in a thirty-five-year-old body with too much money.  When we arrived back at our seats the event staff in the loud florescent shirts reminded us we were in the no drinking section.  

The birthday girl’s iPod was stuck on replay, replay, because she said, “you’re joking, right?” at least six times before the rest of us decided to go backwards and finish our drinks.  Regrettably, one of my default settings in “belligerent” and we default to that setting when I’m told I cannot do something.  I intended to have one drink for myself and for my homeboy.  I did not intend to be told what to do.  And this, boys and girls, is why they sell “souvenir cups,” and why I now own one because, seriously, if there’s a problem (yo) I’ll solve it. 

Souvenir cups in hand I did two things: I dumped my drinks into the cups and had it topped off.  A client of mine also happens to work for the alcohol vendor, which didn’t translate into free drinks but may or may not have translated into, “I’ll make your drink into the cup you already have.”  I am always glad to know someone who is at the same time concerned about the environment but not my liver.

I am confident we could have been caught because on our way back to our seats the birthday girl presented her drink to the Buzz Kill Brigade and said, “It’s Mountain Dew, do you want a sip?” When I see someone drinking Bud Light or Mountain Dew I say a prayer for the person because their life has hit a low point and often they don’t even know it.  How tragic is that? 

The flaw in the no-drinking section is that most of us had no idea we had been corralled into a teetotaler section and so we had to finish our drinks before coming back or be creative.  Both of those solutions created more drinking than would have gone down if you just let us enjoy one or two drinks in the first place.  You don’t tell American rednecks or those of us who aspire to “British Soccer Hooligan” status what to do.  In retrospect it could have been a clever ploy to get us to buy more drinks betting against our natural instincts but if sobriety were the goal you’d have to just keep us home.  Most people warmed up tailgating where it is less expensive to be irresponsible than it would be to do that inside. 

We eventually left our section because a fight broke out between two people – one who needed a drink and one who needed to stop drinking.  I contend, and will stand by this, that being puritanical and telling other people what to do always ends badly.  That was interesting in that the sober person was the one who instigated the fight and was swatted down. 

We had to sneak alcohol.  On an outing with friends from high school we had to sneak alcohol around.  As one of the participants aptly put it, “I thought we had gotten past this.”  I’m sure it was like old times or whatever which makes things quaint and memorable but the best way to get me to act like an adult is to afford me the opportunity to act like one. 

Comments

[Margaret]

Hilarious story--but I've NEVER heard of a non-drinking section at a sports game. I don't think it exists here in Washington. :)

[Jennifer Goodman]

Spritopias! It's Peeperjen from Diaryland a hundred and fifty years ago… remember me? Glad you're still blogging… I haven't in about a hundred years (if you're going by when I stopped updating on Diaryland. I do update on Facebook, though, if you are interested in friending me :) Look up "Jennifer Goodman" with the picture of a redheaded toddler eating a gingerbread cookie (if you find me before I change the profile picture!)