Would You Have Bought Me a Beer?

So I am sitting at Nationwide Arena last night, enjoying the Blue Jackets game against Ottawa when I get up to visit the men's room. It's early third period and the Jackets are clinging to a 1-0 lead so the place is still packed and tension is starting to rise.



Our seats in section 206 (upper bowl, corner) are in the smack-ass middle of the row so deciding which way to go out is always tough. I know if I go left (which I usually do) it means that a family of 5 needs to stand up, but they give us no hassles as they are used to it. Actually, we are always friendly and thankful for their courtesy.



But last night, there was some old fart who rolled his eyes every time someone needed to exit the row. Now, keep in mind that this dill-weed never once clapped, screamed or stood up to cheer the Blue Jackets so one wouldn't even know if he was even watching the game but Lord Almighty, when someone had to leave to take a piss, he was up in arms.



So I decided that after I "went to the Urination Station to make my bladder gladder" that I would enter back in from the other aisle. I felt this guy the old fart was one more passer-by from going postal on somebody.



Now, it appears that in actuality, it is three more seats farther from the other aisle but this was my first time coming in this way so people didn't care. I made it past quickly and people didn't miss any hockey. As I am about three seats away from my own seat, this douche bag sitting next to me stands up and knocks my three-quarter full beer out of it's drink holder onto the floor.



"Oh, I knocked your beer over," he says to me. "Sorry."



That's it? Not, "Oh shit dude. My bad. Let me walk my pasty-ass down and get you another one before they close the concession stands." Not "Dude, I am soooooooo sorry. Can I repay you for the lost suds?"



Now, I was pissed off but what am I supposed to do? Get into some sort of childish "you owe me a beer, you clumsy M.F" argument right there in the stands? I mean, there are kids around and I am a mature individual (insert sarcastic laughter here). I guess I was waiting for him to come back with one of the aforementioned responses but he just crossed his legs, turned his gaze to the ice and acted like it didn't happen.



Spilled beer is always a crime but when you drop a $7.00 beer, that's damn near a felony in this beer drinker's mind. If I was this guy, I probably would have been tempted to grab the 3/4 full beer his wife's friend's husband had and give it to me. Hell, he could have repaid him after the game at a bar or at home. But no, he acted like it didn't happen.



It's a good thing the Blue Jackets won the game because if they would have lost that game and I got my beer spilled, then I might have gotten more than two minutes in the penalty box for "game misconduct."



What would you have done? Would you have run down to get a new beer for me? Offered to reimburse me? Or ignored me the way this weasel did?



I know what I'll do next time. I'll bring my god dammed beer with me to the bathroom so no one will knock it over.



Go Jackets!

Snuggie or What the F$#^ Blanket?

They're Driving Me Crazy!

I know it isn't a long weekend by any means and I guess it could have been a three day weekend. Perhaps the snow could have fallen longer and deeper than the 3" we received and school could be cancelled tomorrow.

But what is it about the 65 hours between Friday's release of school and Monday's carpool that creates a real life version of Super Smash Brothers between my two kids? I swear they would kill each other if we weren't sitting in the same room.

Now don't get me wrong, they are great kids and I am not naive enough to think they couldn't be worse, but between the tattling, unwillingness to share, yelling, complaining, name calling and flat our meanness they are driving me crazy.

I am sure my father is smiling up in heaven and thinking "I told you so" and I know my Mom had her share of days like this. (Well, now that I think about it, as one of three boys, I am sure she had more weekends like this then I ever will.)

Oh well, school starts at 8:10am tomorrow and I have a full day of work in front of me. I am sure by the time I tuck them in tonight, all will be forgotten when they tell me they love me and I kiss them good night, right?

Right?

While the kid in this commercial is much worse than my children have ever acted, I know most parents have shared this shopper's pain.