I am a sports fan. Unabashedly and undeniably so. Mostly I watch football, with smatterings of Hockey and Baseball in there sometimes. I even watch college football (Go Longhorns) even though my college team wasn't really the best. (We did have an AMAZING rookie this past season really rock it out tho! So proud!)
So I understand exuberant support of one's college team, and even having such strong feelings for a school that was never even attended. However, there is a fine line between devoted fan and obsessed fan.
Wolverine worked security at one of the Big Three back when I lived in Michigan. He was a huge fan and dreamed of going to the Big House to watch a game, even though he had yet to attend college.
We went out drinking one night to a dueling piano bar. The two show masters decided to rev up the school rivalries by playing the Michigan fight song as well as the Michigan State fight song. They solicited donations into two pots, one for Michigan, one for MSU, on their pianos. Partiers could put money into the pot - $1, $5, whatever they wanted to - and whichever pot had more money would continue to play the song. If the other pot all of a sudden surpassed the one currently playing, then the winning school's piano took over the noise and played the school's song. This went back and forth as the MSU fans fought with the Michigan fans to get their song played. The winner was determined by whichever pot reaching the end of the song before anyone from the other school had contributed enough to stop the song.
Anyway, this got Wolverine all sorts of riled up. As the drinks continued flowing, he refused to stop singing. He was too drunk to drive and it was freezing cold (Michigan winters...), so we took a cab back to his place.
This is where it got annoying.
Wolverine was holding his keys out when we arrived at his apartment. The stubborn ass of a man then decided that, despite the fact that I was freezing and he didn't have a jacket, we could not go inside until he and I had sang the entire Michigan fight song at the top of our lungs.
First, I tried reasoning with him. It's cold. I'm cold. Give me the keys. You're being an idiot. Someone's going to call the cops.
Second, I tried wrestling the keys from him. "RAPE! RAPE!" Sure, make the cops come faster. Give me the damn keys!
Third, I tried browbeating him. Just give me the keys. You're drunk. You're an outright idiot. Stop being a dickhead. You are SUCH an ass.
Fourth, I halfway gave in. How about you sing it to me, then we'll go in.
None of this had any effect. He had a plan. Sing the song at the top of our lungs or we're staying outside all night.
So I re-hailed a cab and went home. Drunken stupid sports fans make lousy boyfriends.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Lie to Me
I've often wondered what the world looks like through Fred's eyes. Truly, he must live in some sort of unicorn fantasy land where anything is possible.
Either that, or he thinks the rest of us just fell off the back of the turnip truck.
Fred lied. Often. And poorly. And seldom about things of any consequence. He just really liked to lie. Of course many of the examples I would like to list here are either horribly humiliating, or fall more into the category of "why my ex has earned an especially hot corner in hell" than the category of "why my ex is a loser."
The first time Fred came to visit my parents, he was a two-pack-a-day smoker. No one in my family smokes. So, about every 45 minutes, he stand in my front yard and smoke himself silly. I'm not even going to touch how trashy this must have looked to the neighbors. Toward the end of his visit, my mom pulled me aside and said that while she was walking the dogs, she had encountered several cigarette butts in the yard and to please ask Fred to be more considerate. I could completely understand her annoyance with the situation and agreed to talk to Fred about it.
Later that night, I had the following conversation:
Me: "Hey, my parents have noticed a lot of cigarette butts in the yard. Moving forward, can you be more diligent about putting them in the trash?"
Fred: "They're not mine."
At this point, I was completely caught off guard. Whose did he think they were? None of my family smokes. None of my neighbors smoke. Did he honestly expect me to believe that some rogue smoker had taken-up leaving his trash in our yard several times a day without once being seen...and that this occurrence happened to coincide with Fred's visit? Not wanting to push the issue further, I just told him that I am happy he isn't leaving butts in my yard because my parents are angry with whoever is.
It absolutely blows my mind that he believed he could deny this and everyone would believe him. And that he would waste his efforts lying about something that truly was not a big deal. I should have realized that this was a sign he would only lie about bigger (see also, lesbian shower sluts) and more ambiguous things.
Either that, or he thinks the rest of us just fell off the back of the turnip truck.
Fred lied. Often. And poorly. And seldom about things of any consequence. He just really liked to lie. Of course many of the examples I would like to list here are either horribly humiliating, or fall more into the category of "why my ex has earned an especially hot corner in hell" than the category of "why my ex is a loser."
The first time Fred came to visit my parents, he was a two-pack-a-day smoker. No one in my family smokes. So, about every 45 minutes, he stand in my front yard and smoke himself silly. I'm not even going to touch how trashy this must have looked to the neighbors. Toward the end of his visit, my mom pulled me aside and said that while she was walking the dogs, she had encountered several cigarette butts in the yard and to please ask Fred to be more considerate. I could completely understand her annoyance with the situation and agreed to talk to Fred about it.
Later that night, I had the following conversation:
Me: "Hey, my parents have noticed a lot of cigarette butts in the yard. Moving forward, can you be more diligent about putting them in the trash?"
Fred: "They're not mine."
At this point, I was completely caught off guard. Whose did he think they were? None of my family smokes. None of my neighbors smoke. Did he honestly expect me to believe that some rogue smoker had taken-up leaving his trash in our yard several times a day without once being seen...and that this occurrence happened to coincide with Fred's visit? Not wanting to push the issue further, I just told him that I am happy he isn't leaving butts in my yard because my parents are angry with whoever is.
It absolutely blows my mind that he believed he could deny this and everyone would believe him. And that he would waste his efforts lying about something that truly was not a big deal. I should have realized that this was a sign he would only lie about bigger (see also, lesbian shower sluts) and more ambiguous things.
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