UUUUUUUUU of OOOOOOOOOOO

(you must yell this loudly with hands outstretched over your head in the respective “U” and “O” shape)

“But don’t you get excited that the other team is doing really well?” LaLo asked me Saturday as I watched the Auburn defense pummel the Bama offensive line. As my stomach turned with each additional blitz and rush I looked at her and curtly responded, “No. I. Don’t.”

Seriously… are you joking me with this?

I want my team to win, not yours. That’s the joy of sports, my friend. You can despise another school, city, state or region merely because they are standing opposite of you on that line of scrimmage… aiming for the other basket… or attempting to stop you from rounding those bases…

For example, I hate… hate… the Oregon State Beavers. Hate them. Thus the reason that the ass kicking they received Saturday during our annual Civil War game was so gleeful… joyful… and purely satisfying.

Sitting in the Yard House watching men on TV clad in orange and black, eyes’ well up with tears… pure satisfaction. Yes, I know this is rude, but I hate losing and I am glad we didn’t. Let’s face it, we not only won, we embarrassed the Beavers, humiliated them, and made them return to Corvallis with their tails between their legs. That was for last year. Ha.

I got my hair done Saturday morning… uber dark, I love love love it! While watching the game, sitting at the bar, LaLo continued to compliment me on how great it looks. She said a one point, “If you don’t get hit on for a while it’s because you are intimidatingly beautiful.” Yes, shore… I’m sure that’s why. (Seriously love my friends, regardless (or especially because?) of the hyperbole they can occasionally fall into…)

Apparently the idiots that seemingly kept replacing one another on either side of us didn’t feel the same way about my looks as LaLo… unfortunately. They just kept to talking us. He who wore the too-tight black T-shirt to show off his-wanna-be-muscles asked me, “Are you really watching this game?” I didn’t divert my attention from the screen and said, “Yes.” As he said something else to me, I replied, “I told you I’m watching the game.” LaLo was on the other side in a deep conversation about education and philosophy with a guy she wished she wasn’t.

I find amusement in the fact that LaLo will not hesitate to vehemently tell a waitress or an establishment if she feels that they have done her wrong in any way, but will converse with some random schmoe next to her unlimitedly when she doesn’t want to. I honestly can not think of anytime I have complained about anything involving any type of service, yet if I don’t want to speak with a guy I won’t. After all, it’s really not me he wants to speak with, he merely wants to talk to any girl that will talk back with him… he will move on to the next target if I choose not to return his volley.

I left that bar, exchanging phone numbers with he-who-interested me and moved on to the restaurant that I go to weekly. This would be the same place I found out I put on a show of sorts last week. Entering the bar the door man hugged me hello, as I apologized in his ear for the previous week’s performance. Now one might think that wearing a short black skirt, knee high black boots and black mesh panties would be a fine time to straddle a guy she doesn’t know at his seat in the bar, giving him a pseudo-lap dance and lifting her skirt ensuring that everyone sees just how “cute” her panties are…but…don’t remember it… didn’t happen.

We stayed for just a couple of Black Mamba’s and left. While waiting for our car at valet two couples walked by. As I watched the first pass by I noticed the gentleman was carrying a very nice bottle of red wine. Without hesitation I asked him, “You don’t want to be stuck carrying that now, do you?”

He then walked over to me said, “You’re right.” and handed me the bottle.

My jaw dropped as I looked at LaLo. I was merely trying to be sassy… I didn’t actually expect him to give it to me. His friend walking behind him came up and said. “I can’t believe you did that, I need a high five for that!”

I high-fived him, went home and enjoyed some delicious red… not a bad night at all.

GO DUCKS!