Our betting dated back to a management seminar the two of us attended years ago. During the seminar Karen and I were pitted against each other in several of the training exercises. The trash talk over coffee and donuts led to a wager of dinner for the winning team. We took this competition between us back to the office. I guess one of the managers picked up on it and we were given competing territories. Over the years we bet on monthly sales totals, net gains, and any other bench mark possible.
Normally the wager was for lunch, a bottle of wine or a small dollar amount. Then this year the college bowl games were announced and her school was going to play mine in one of the minor bowl games. She had been a cheerleader and this triggered the super fan in her to ramp up the trash talk. After a few days of this constant "rah, rah, we are going to beat your ass" haranguing, I had enough.
"Ok, Miss Cheerleader, it's time to put up or shut up" I said.
She jumped on that like a cat on a mouse. "I'll bet you $100 that we cream your team" she shouted.
"No, this bet has to be more personal than money." "You have to risk your dignity," I replied.
After a long negotiation it was decided that the loser would be slave for the day. The game was scheduled for Saturday so Monday morning the loser would report to the winner's office and surrender. There were only two rules; the winner could not make the loser do anything that would cause them to lose their job and that the servitude would be from 8AM to 5PM.
Although my team was the underdog and was expected to lose by 10 points, I racked by brain to come up with embarrassing things for her to do Monday. I planned to have her wear my school colors, maybe declare to the office that she was a loser, and fetch me coffee and lunch. She apparently had other ideas.
I was watching the game at a local sports bar and it wasn't until late that night that I got the phone messages that Karen left during the game. It would appear that she wanted me to suffer for my team's lack of ability. The first message was right after they scored a touchdown on the kickoff.
"Hey loser, are you ready to do my bidding, are you ready to grovel at my feet, to be humiliated and embarrassed," she taunted.
It only got worse after their second TD and at halftime when we were down by 20 points Karen started listing my duties. "You will report to my office with a hot cup of coffee and then strip off all your clothes." "You will jack off so that I can have fresh cream for my coffee." "I'll keep your underwear in my desk drawer as a reminder that your ass belongs to me."
Things looked a bit better when we scored a touchdown late in the third quarter. No message until they scored a field goal late in the fourth quarter. The score was 23 to 7.