As I’ve mentioned a few times, I tend to be a weird magnet for both people and situations. Normally, I don’t mind this as I meet many interesting people this way. But occasionally, it’s a tad embarrassing. This is never more true than at sporting events.
I realized this very early on with my (now) husband. When we were dating, he took me to about 50 basketball games one winter-spring. He was following a local high school team, which went all the way to the state championships and of course, we were watching college ball on television. By the time April arrived, I was pretty much an expert at all things basketball.
Then he took me to the Ohio State spring football game. It was packed. Early on in the game, the referee blew his whistle and made a circular motion with his hands. I stood up and yelled, outraged and loudly, “Travelling??!!!”
Two things happened simultaneously: about 100 people turned to look at the ditzy blonde yelling the wrong call at the ref. My husband (then boyfriend) turned to chat with the guy next to him – a perfect stranger, I might add – so that those 100 people had no idea he was with the ditzy blonde.
Years later, there was a game at which we were challenged twice (before the game started) about our seats. We were correct of course, because my husband always knows exactly where his seats are. This game was also packed and my husband was next to a large – very large – stranger, whom we called “Bubba.” My husband had nowhere to put his right arm. He could either put it straight out in front of him or drape it around Bubba’s shoulders. That ended up helping us when four folks arrived late – plowing through people without waiting for a break in the game – blocking our view and then standing around looking at seat numbers. My frustrated husband said, “People, get here on time” at which one of the women began to frantically whisper to her husband. Her hubby obligingly turned to look, but when he saw my husband (who’s about 6’1” and no slouch) with his arm around Bubba the Tank, he wisely sat.
I won’t tell the long and hilarious story of the time we went to a game and lost our car keys. And there were two different times that tornados and severe thunderstorms drenched us at football games. Let’s just say 100,000 people do not evacuate a stadium quickly.
These kinds of adventures have led me to expect bizarre things to happen to us at sporting events. But they did not prepare me for our most recent baseball game. Naturally, I had to use the bathroom in the ninth inning. Most folks had either (a) left already, or (b) were staying to the very end and not leaving their seats. I entered the restroom to find it completely empty – that’s strange! I had my choice of 20 stalls, so I quickly completed my business.
The stalls had one of those little round locks, with a tiny bar about one inch long by ¼” wide to grip and turn. It did not surprise me to find that I had chosen the stall with the lock that wasn’t working well.
I tried to turn it, but nothing happened. I yanked on the door, but it didn’t budge. After several rounds of this, I was beginning to get concerned. I didn’t want to crawl on the bathroom floor under the door, but checking out the space, I had a bigger worry. If I was eyeballing the space correctly, I was very likely to get stuck. So…did I want to be stuck on the bathroom floor on my stomach or on my back? My thought was – not at all!
I kept turning and yanking and just as I thought I’d have to wait until the end of the game, when surely my husband would notice I hadn’t returned, the door popped open.
Weird. But then, I’m a magnet.
so fortuante- losing keys – no end of that story?? and then almosdt losing your life – but certainly your sanity!! verynice to have new friends like “Bubba” when things happen!
Some people are so rude- and then it turns out to be US! We are so SPACIAL!!!
OH yeah = tha is spelled RIGHT!! love your stuff always – outta be in some monthly book like Readers Digest!! Sell a million or more copies and get some royalties!!
PS – I would love to be your manager for abourt 15%!!
Oh, Susie, I gave up on sports terms. I have said, “What inning is it?” when I should have asked, “What quarter is it?” I asked Hubby the other night, “Why do they call it football when they are throwing the ball with their hands?” I know they couldn’t call it handball because that’s another game hitting the ball with the hands. He patiently explained to me that the football is kicked to start the game, it’s kicked at 4th down, to start the second half of the game and field goals — or something like that, I wasn’t listening too closely.
I just learned that squash ball is a racquet sport. And why do they call it softball when the ball is very hard? Now I love games played in Ohio because I know which team to cheer for except when both teams are wearing the same colors, but Hubby watches a lot of football and basketball games so I ask him, “Which team are we rooting for?” During these games I could be doing a number of other things — reading, texting, balancing the checkbook, napping, etc.
Susie, I hope I’m not becoming a weird magnet! Last year at one of the Ohio County Fairs I got myself locked in the women’s restroom. Just before the last harness race, I thought I would beat the crowd and go take care of business. I didn’t have a bit of trouble going in and locking the door, but try getting out! Nothing worked! Just like you, no one else was in there. After trying unsuccessfully several times, I finally heard a voice. I said loudly, “I can’t get out of here!” The lady said, “Yes, I know, do this.” She was the service lady and knew what to do. Thankfully it worked.
Since you tend to be a weird magnet, I’d say the first time Matt dated you he found you very attractive!
Keep up the good work!
al usual Bets had another great piece =- you two make my day – keep it up, you are precious and adorable and write really good stuff- gotta get this printed somewhere- why cannot readers digest do a series on you two!!??!