I settled on to my couch in my pink bath robe right when the players took to the ice. I timed my bath just right. Nevermind, I had the help of the TV turned up extra loud so I would be able to hear it in the bathroom.
The game started almost too quiet and the playing was destined to remain on the cautious side for the whole first period, I predicted. I watched until the clock on the screen said there was 8:56 left in the first period.
That's when I looked down at my bath robe and adopted a 'Why am I sitting here in this?' attitude. I mean really, who wants to jump around in a bathrobe if Calgary wins? I need a pair of jeans.
The other night when I was also in my bath robe, deciding I needed to be dressed, I devised a new game. I call it "Deer in the Headlights."
I have a rather large living room window. My curtains are fairly close to completely see-through.
This game pretty much consists of me being able to get fully dressed in my living room, ensuring at all costs, there is not one possible way of me getting caught naked to anyone outside.
Of course, I am a wimp. I have decided to only play this game at dusk and with no lights on. But regardless, even if a car drives by outside and has even the slightest chance to see me naked-that is consider a "caught" and the game is done.
I start by going to pick out a shirt in my bedroom. The jeans I want to wear are in the dryer downstairs.
I sit back on my couch. With the largeness of my window, it is very easy to see what is coming from the left. From the right, there are plenty of blind spots.
I know I will have to be careful.
It is almost two full minutes before I feel safe enough to throw off my bathrobe and throw on my shirt. I was pretty thrilled by my swiftness with such little practice.
Next I had to get to the door that leads downstairs. The living room window is in full view of this door all the way there. This is a tough part of the game and where I was "caught" the first time I played. I am a little nervous.
I slink close to the wall and manage to get all the way down the hallway. A swish of relief washes over me as I shut the basement door behind me. I lean against the door, slightly fainted. I shake it off and grin.
I think I have the confidence to pull it off this time since I have successfully pulled past my first game. I am after all, a quick learner.
I peek out the door carefully on my way back to the couch with my jeans. I am glad I had enough common sense to close it on the way down. There is suddenly so much traffic outside!
After five minutes, I slouched down to a sitting position on the top stair and start thinking about the people in the cars, 'Un-patriotic Bastards! Go home!'
After seven minutes, there was an opening and I went for it, sliding back on to my couch, throwing my housecoat back over to cover me just as a blue car drives by. Oh, yeah! I am awesome.
I slide my ankles into my jeans. I am daring. I take a quick glance to the left and right and stand.
Just at they are pulled up to the top of my thighs, a white truck appears from the right side. Caught.
Shit.
I do up my jeans and flop on the couch a little sad the game is done.
It is in-between periods on the hockey game. Don Cherry is on the screen trying give an inspiration speech to all Canadian youth. He is pretty bad at it.
And I had been right. No one had scored in the hockey game.
The second period did not start out so good with Tampa scoring. I saw when it appeared at the 11:06 mark Calgary gave up a perfect opportunity to score, when suddenly Clark came out of nowhere, and scored to tie the game.
I watched as the skating continued. The dirty refs seemed to hand out a penalty to Calgary's Conroy pretty fast after Clark's goal. That is, if you believe the refs are dirty. That was the official turning point of the game, for me, anyway. I was predicting a loss for Calgary.
Suddenly the game was 2-1 for Tampa.
I was bored. I went out to the kitchen to play a game of Dishes.
I did not even run in to my living room when Nilson tied it up with 2:11 left in the period.
I lost my stacking game tonight.
And I am never really interested in hockey until the third period, anyway.
***Don't worry, boys. We'll bring it home from Tampa instead.
The game started almost too quiet and the playing was destined to remain on the cautious side for the whole first period, I predicted. I watched until the clock on the screen said there was 8:56 left in the first period.
That's when I looked down at my bath robe and adopted a 'Why am I sitting here in this?' attitude. I mean really, who wants to jump around in a bathrobe if Calgary wins? I need a pair of jeans.
The other night when I was also in my bath robe, deciding I needed to be dressed, I devised a new game. I call it "Deer in the Headlights."
I have a rather large living room window. My curtains are fairly close to completely see-through.
This game pretty much consists of me being able to get fully dressed in my living room, ensuring at all costs, there is not one possible way of me getting caught naked to anyone outside.
Of course, I am a wimp. I have decided to only play this game at dusk and with no lights on. But regardless, even if a car drives by outside and has even the slightest chance to see me naked-that is consider a "caught" and the game is done.
I start by going to pick out a shirt in my bedroom. The jeans I want to wear are in the dryer downstairs.
I sit back on my couch. With the largeness of my window, it is very easy to see what is coming from the left. From the right, there are plenty of blind spots.
I know I will have to be careful.
It is almost two full minutes before I feel safe enough to throw off my bathrobe and throw on my shirt. I was pretty thrilled by my swiftness with such little practice.
Next I had to get to the door that leads downstairs. The living room window is in full view of this door all the way there. This is a tough part of the game and where I was "caught" the first time I played. I am a little nervous.
I slink close to the wall and manage to get all the way down the hallway. A swish of relief washes over me as I shut the basement door behind me. I lean against the door, slightly fainted. I shake it off and grin.
I think I have the confidence to pull it off this time since I have successfully pulled past my first game. I am after all, a quick learner.
I peek out the door carefully on my way back to the couch with my jeans. I am glad I had enough common sense to close it on the way down. There is suddenly so much traffic outside!
After five minutes, I slouched down to a sitting position on the top stair and start thinking about the people in the cars, 'Un-patriotic Bastards! Go home!'
After seven minutes, there was an opening and I went for it, sliding back on to my couch, throwing my housecoat back over to cover me just as a blue car drives by. Oh, yeah! I am awesome.
I slide my ankles into my jeans. I am daring. I take a quick glance to the left and right and stand.
Just at they are pulled up to the top of my thighs, a white truck appears from the right side. Caught.
Shit.
I do up my jeans and flop on the couch a little sad the game is done.
It is in-between periods on the hockey game. Don Cherry is on the screen trying give an inspiration speech to all Canadian youth. He is pretty bad at it.
And I had been right. No one had scored in the hockey game.
The second period did not start out so good with Tampa scoring. I saw when it appeared at the 11:06 mark Calgary gave up a perfect opportunity to score, when suddenly Clark came out of nowhere, and scored to tie the game.
I watched as the skating continued. The dirty refs seemed to hand out a penalty to Calgary's Conroy pretty fast after Clark's goal. That is, if you believe the refs are dirty. That was the official turning point of the game, for me, anyway. I was predicting a loss for Calgary.
Suddenly the game was 2-1 for Tampa.
I was bored. I went out to the kitchen to play a game of Dishes.
I did not even run in to my living room when Nilson tied it up with 2:11 left in the period.
I lost my stacking game tonight.
And I am never really interested in hockey until the third period, anyway.
***Don't worry, boys. We'll bring it home from Tampa instead.
Comments
(Now what was that address?)