Yesterday was the UNC/NC State football game. If you aren't aware, this is a big rivalry. Any game between UNC, NC State, or Duke is always huge because they are all within 20 miles of each other... making for excellent war games. It also means many people manage to marry "across the borders," so to speak, and Chris and I are one of those couples. I've written about it before, but I'm currently too lazy to look up my previous post.
Anyway, back to yesterday. UNC (aka "the Heels," "Carolina," or "The Good Guys" -- I will use those terms interchangably) was completely murdered on the field by NC State (aka "State," "Pack," "Wolfpack," or "bloody hicks." You can tell where my loyalties lie). Murdered. Sliced open and eaten for dinner. It was bad. Seriously.
As it happens, we were expecting company last night for dinner, so as we watched the game, I baked a cake. Then, our friends called us to cancel. They had pulled "an Elizabeth," which means they totally planned two things for the same night without ever really putting together that both things could not actually happen at the same time unless they cloned themselves and their kids.
Since our kids had been Jonesing for some time with other creatures their own age, we scrapped dinner and headed out to Monkey Joes... a bounce house place where the kids can run around, scream, and generally cause a ruckus without destroying our home.
It was very crowded. Lots of people in red State and light blue Carolina shirts milling about. Obviously, this was a promise made to many small children forced to sit in a freezing cold stadium for three hours... "If you sit quietly through this, we'll go to Monkey Joes!"
Anyway, after an hour of battling the bajillion small people, we left and went to Gypsy's Shiny Diner, a Cary landmark that is, as you would expect, a shiny diner. We were seated promptly and fed a little less promptly. As we were digging into our burgers and corn dogs, a table of folks all in red were seated close to us. And now begins my own personal version of "The Birds."
I could tell from the conversation these guys had with the waitress that they were regulars, and that they were expecting more. Sure enough, fifteen minutes later, four more red shirts showed up and sat at the table beside us. Five minutes later... four more appeared at the booth adjacent to us, right behind Chris and Marcus. Soon, another four diagonally behind us, and sure enough, another four directly behind me. It was at this point that I could read some of the red shirts, and I learned that this was, in fact, the NCSU Marching Band and not, unfortunately, a particularly gruesome Star Trek episode.
The enemy was here. And they had won. Soundly. And they had me completely surrounded.
I looked up at Chris, and could tell he was reading my mind. I saw immediately that in his own Borgian way, he had already mind-melded with my antagonists and was enjoying the process. All I could say was, "Um... I'm actually starting to feel a little unconfortable." He laughed.
I excused myself to take Athena to the restroom. While I was gone, he completed his assimilation and informed the red shirts of my loyalties. They didn't say anything immediately when I returned, but when Chris got up to pay the bill... it started.
"Shhhhhhh... It's the Heels fan..."
"Don't look directly at her..."
"No, look at her... it will freak her out..."
All in good fun... I hope.
Regardless, I hightailed it out of there before they could peck my eyes out.
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3 comments:
So the question is now...have the kids developed loyalties of their own yet?
Chris has been brainwashing them. I am planning to start taking regular trips to Chapel Hill, since we live in enemy territory.
Funny how they pick up on their parents' habits so young... I bet yours are already ordering Diet Coke with no ice and ice water with no lemon :)
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