Growing up, I was a huge sports fan. Baseball, basketball, football. Pro, college. It didn't matter. I loved it all. Well, I say this in the past-tense, but I still do love sports. The problem is that my wife hates them. She finds them completely boring and just a waste of time. I only get to watch a few games a year if I'm lucky.
Another thing I have had to give up for my wife is partying. I was never a huge party animal, but like most guys I enjoy going out and having a few beers. My wife doesn't drink, so it turns out, that means neither do I.
I've been able to make these sacrifices for my wife because I love her deeply. However it is incredibly frustrating to ask her time after time if we can go to a bar together or watch a football game, just to be turned down every time.
This is why I was completely shocked one day when she told me that she was going to a football tailgate with an old friend from high school. We are both in our 30s, living in a college town. In fact we live in the town where I went to college, so I've been waiting for the day when I could take her to a football game. Apparently, this friend from college is a fan of the visiting team and since they were coming to our town, he invited my wife to the tailgate.
I was incredibly upset that she would accept an invitation from this friend but would never go with me. But I let go of that anger, because I realized I was finally getting what I've been after, a chance to relive the days where I would tailgate every game, every season.
As we were getting ready to go, I asked my wife if she was planning on drinking at the tailgate. She got upset at me and yelled at me for even asking. And since she wasn't drinking, she reminded me that I wouldn't be drinking either.
When we arrived, we didn't see anyone we knew so we basically just stood around doing nothing except complaining about the heat. When her friend finally showed up, my wife ran to him and gave him a big hug. It was nothing that offended me, just a hug you would give a long lost friend.
I figured I would give them a chance to catch up, so I sat down to watch one of the early games on a tv that one of the tailgaters brought along. It was a great game, and one of the few times I've gotten to watch more then a few minutes of a game without having the channel switched.
After maybe half an hour or so, my wife returned. The first thing I noticed was what looked and smelled like vodka spilled on her shirt. When she started complaining that I was watching football instead of spending time with her, it was obvious that my very lightweight wife had had some of that vodka to drink. I asked her about it and she didn't deny it, just telling me that it was a special occasion and everyone really wanted her to drink.
She said it was ok that I keep watching, so she disappeared back to her friends. I took the opportunity to grab a beer from a cooler, since obviously she was drinking, that meant I could too.
As time went on, I kept looking back at the group, and noticed my wife continuing to take shots. I knew there was no way this was going to end well. The most she would drink is a few sips of wine at dinner. I was starting to dread the inescapable reality of having to tend to a sick, drunk wife.
It was about time for kickoff, so everyone with tickets headed over to the stadium. That meant my wife's friend was leaving for the game, so it was time for my wife and I to head home. I was honestly relieved: I know my wife is faithful, but I had a strange feeling that this long lost friend of hers had not so pure plans for her.
As we started walking to the car, my wife told me she had to puke. I grabbed her hand and starting heading for some bushes so she could do it in private, but she ended up just puking all over my shirt instead. I heard some laughs from some college kids who witnessed the scene.
A couple of them came over. "Sorry man, but that shit was funny. We could all see she was gonna puke soon." The kids were nice enough, offering me a shirt and letting me know where I could clean off. There was this trailer, sort of a mobile bathroom. Inside were sinks and a few stalls. I knew it was going to be rough, but it would allow me to get cleaned up.
My wife was still loopy so I mostly dragged her along with me. I needed to get cleaned up, but I didn't want to leave her outside alone, so I brought her into the men's trailer with me. There were a couple guys in there but they realized the situation and rushed out of there.
I started cleaning myself up. Then, to my horror, I realized that I was going to be sick too. I forgot how long it had been since I really drank, and the few beers I had were too much for me. I rushed into a stall and started throwing up.
I quickly heard knocking on the door of the next stall over. I looked under the divider and saw there was a guy sitting on the toilet in that stall. My wife was knocking on the door, thinking I was in that stall. She was yelling telling the man that she wanted to go home.
