So a few weeks ago I had great seats for the Jazz Game. I invited one of the girls in the neighborhood to go with me - a girl's night out. We get to the arena and find our seats. The guy who was in the seat next to me sort of had his jacket encroaching onto my seat. I sort of give him a half-smile as if to say, "Get your jacket out of my way... please."
YoungGuy moves his jacket and mumbles something like, "Oh, sorry." I smile in return and say, "No worries. These seats are a little cozy. I'm sure we'll be good friends by the end of the game." He looks at me, and then does a double-take, looking at me again. His eyes look like they are ready to "bug" out. I lean over to NeighborGirl and say, I think this guy thinks I'm trying to hit on him! We both giggle. I mean, come on. Seriously? I am like 35 years old. YoungGuy is about 23, 24ish.
Anyway, the game starts, and my "boyfriend" of course is starting. He is on fire. Points are scored. I'm jumping up yelling something like, "Good job D-Will!" while thinking, "Oh. My. Gosh. D-Will. You. Are. HOT!!!" Anyway - a few bad calls by the refs and I'm yelling stuff like "Aw - come on! Are ya blind???" And then D-Will has to go be all sexy-hot and score a few more points. I'm getting all warmed up, yelling stuff like, "That's right baby! You show 'em who's boss!" Okay, maybe I went a little overboard with that one.
Anyway, a time-out is called, and I take my seat. YoungGuy says something like, "Wow. And I was gonna warn you that I was a loud fan." I smile and say, "Oh - well, that's my boyfriend out there." He asks, "Who? Deron Williams?" I say, "Uh-huh" as I'm slurping on my diet coke. YoungGuy looks confused. He then asks, "Isn't he married." Too funny. He thought I was serious. I pretend to pout and say, "Well, that's not MY fault. We could really have something here if he would just return my calls!" YoungGuy again gives me the BugEye look. I laugh and add, "I keep telling him it's called 'dating' and not 'stalking'."
At this point YoungGuy sort of clears his throat, squirms in his seat and says pointing to the guy next to him, "Uh, this is my Uncle Mark. My Uncle Mark really loves the Jazz." I smile and give a half-wave to "Uncle Mark". Then, I turn to NeighborGirl and whisper "This guy totally thinks I am trying to hit on him. AND he just tried to pawn me off on his 50-something uncle!" We giggle some more.
We are ahead, because after all we are playing Oklahoma City. And let's face it, if the Jazz lost to the Thunder, well that would be shameful. Anyway, we're doing well, and then there are a few fouls. Okur just couldn't keep his elbows down. A few free throw shots. And a few bad calls. Every time I'd give the appropriate cheer or jeer, YoungGuy would make a comment to me, attempting to display his ever-so awesome knowledge of NBA games. AND he would following it up with, "Don't you agree Uncle Mark?" Each time Uncle Mark would give a half nod or a shy smile and answer in the affirmative. And each time, I'd get an elbow in the ribs by NeighborGirl. This was just too funny.
Then came half-time. Or, as my friend Karl would call it, DPR time. Drink. Pee. Replenish. Upon returning to our seats, things just got more weird with YoungGuy and Uncle Mark. They started talking Real Estate with me. In the conversation I reveal I have both a current real estate license and escrow license.
YoungGuy says, "I was actually thinking of getting my real estate license. My wife thinks I should. See, my wife and I just moved down here from Idaho. And my wife is pregnant. So, she'll be staying home as soon as the baby is born. My wife thinks this would be good for me to do on the side." I smile and say, "So... you have a wife?" YoungGuy thinking I am totally serious responds, as he practically flashes his wedding band in my face, "Yes. Oh- my Uncle Mark here is an appraiser." He then nudges Uncle Mark in the ribs. I couldn't believe it. Right there in front of me. They had obviously discussed this during half-time.
Uncle Mark clears his throat and starts to ask me about the market, where I work and things like that. I keep it brief and short. After all, I was there to support my man D-Will now, wasn't I? Finally the end draws near and the Jazz win. As we stand to leave, YoungGuy taps me on my shoulder, extends his hand and says, "Nice meeting you." Then turning back to his Uncle asks, "Right Uncle Mark?" I mean, seriously? Who's the puppet master here?
NeighborGirl and I laugh all the way home. Poor kid. I guess women aren't so forward in Idaho. I bet he went home and told his wife that some old lady tried to hit on him.
So, I'm at Big-D's house the other night, laughing and telling him this story. I tell him, "Seriously. I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried." He agrees, "I know." Then he shakes his head a little and asks, "So when you go to a game, can't you just leave the other people alone like the rest of us?"
I laugh and say something like, "I guess not. That's how I roll."