Is there anything better than free tickets to a sporting event? I don’t think I’ve ever paid to go to a football game. Brendon’s dad gave us 6 tickets that he got through work (which apparently he gets for every home game, it’s good to be the boss!) so we gathered up a nice little crew and started our adventures.
First stop of course was the liquor store. We bought Jager and Goldschlager (or however you spell it) to finish before the game started. The only problem was we were running a little late, so we had to drink fast (and with no chase). I love being 19. We walked and drank through the back alleys of Whyte ave. No one cares around here, especially if you are 1) Wearing a team Jersey 2)Drinking Jager (some delivery boy even gave us each a free Red Bull when he noticed.) and 3) Relatively young and attractive. (Hobos just get told to shoo).
The only problem with our technique is that everyone has a different tolerance. Becky was right drunk before we even go to the bus stop. Brendon (who is surprisingly a light-weight when it comes to drinking) was pretty wasted by the time we got to the LRT. We spent the whole time waiting for the train singing “Why don’t you get a job” by the Offspring like 3 times in a row. Some people in the station joined in. Good times. Anyways, Brandon and I were completely sober, and even when we sold our extra tickets and bought beer, didn’t have much more than a buzz going on. Becky and Brendon on the other hand were a little out of control. Poor Becky just wanted to talk on her phone and tell everyone how much she liked this boy, but didn’t know if he liked her. She spent SERIOUSLY 90% of the game outside in the smoke pit on the phone. Finally she called the boy himself, and now they’re going on a date. She was pretty happy.
Silly Becky. She also was very huggy, with Brandon being the unfortunate recipient of her drunken affection. Although she also kept hitting him. Poor guy was a good sport though.
Brendon though, I got kinda mad at. He kept yelling at this one security guy (who was a little older) and calling him Colonel Sanders. I don’t think he was even watching the game. He also ditched off a couple times for long amounts of time, and would only come back because “the cheerleaders are here”. Hello, what about all the friends (and your girlfriend) that you’re with, you don’t want to come back for them? Jerk. It’s okay though, because I told him so. He said he was allowed to have fun. I agreed but pointed out that being rowdy and loud is much different than being selfish. I think that made him sad.
We stopped at Steel Wheels on the way home for cheap pizza, came back to our place and played some video games before going to sleep. Overall it was a fun night, it was just too bad that everyone was kind of in their own world. At least me and Brandon actually watched the game (and played with umbrellas). Oh, I forgot to mention we were in the 4th row so we had a really good view. There’s only a couple pictures of me from the game, because as usual I was the one taking them. Here’s one of me and Brendon. I still love my loud and obnoxious jerk.
2 Comments
July 16, 2008 at 8:43 pm
You know someone named Brandon as well as someone named Brendon? Isn’t it confusing? Although I had a girlfriend named Suzanne and a sister named Susan, both of whom could be called Susie on occasion. Now I know another Susan, who insists upon being called “Susan”, which is OK, since I never call your mother that – mostly Sue or Sus.
Barb
July 16, 2008 at 9:01 pm
Drunk hobos can be unfortunately huggy too. Eeeyaaaah.
I think you’ve already gotten drunker (more often and to a greater degree) than I have in my twice-as-long-as-yours life. I used to drink vodka and orange juice at the Folk Festival. One night I was tipsy enough that I think I was safe riding my bike home. I didn’t want to be busted for RWI (Riding While Impaired).
Barb