It was an average night in October. As I was getting ready to think about a solo dinner, I received a text from my neighbor. She was inviting me over to watch a hockey game involving a new team. I was puzzled, but I texted her back and told her I'd be over. Not knowing what to expect, I was going to arrive in what I was wearing. That would be black sweatpants, flip flops and a blue t-shirt for those at home who are curious.
I was over at her front door a few minutes later. As I was ready to knock, she opened the door. She was wearing a oversized jersey and a huge smile. I looked at her and returned the smile.
"I take it you've never watched a hockey game before, Romeo," she said.
I looked at her and shook my head no.
She invited me in. She already had a pizza on the coffee table and her television was already set for the right station. She also had drinks set aside as well. I didn't know what she made for me, but one taste told me a margarita. Since I wasn't driving anywhere, I indulged. We sat together and ate pizza while she tried to educate me on the finer points of hockey and everything she knew about the new team. I smiled politely, ate pizza and was enjoying her passionate voice.