Super Bawl Sunday

Well, I’m happy to report that one of the most stressful days of my year is now behind me. I know for a lot of people that day is April 15th (Tax Day), but for me it’s Super Bowl Sunday. I am genetically incapable of understanding football. It’s amazing that I can get a doctorate degree in dentistry, yet still not understand a game that middle school kids can play. I tried (half-heartedly, I’ll admit) for years before eventually giving up.

Until recently, I had a lesbian friend who hosted a Super Bowl Party and I always chose to attend her party rather than go to a straight friend's house. At least she & her friends didn’t expect me to know anything about football. Unfortunately she moved to Chicago and since then I’ve been trying to find another party. It’s not necessarily that I’m afraid I won’t understand what’s happening on the football field. I’m more afraid that a straight guy will start talking to me about what’s happening on the football field, and I will look stupid. I hate that.

I did a little prep before the party this year in hopes I could scrape by if someone would choose to engage me in conversation. I made a point of memorizing the names of the teams that were playing. I even decided which team I would say I was pulling for. Beyond that, it would be in God’s hands.

When I got to the party, I noticed with a mixture of joy & dismay that there were several cute guys in attendance. I knew none of them were gay (I’d already asked the hostess) so I made a beeline for the nearest female and struck up a conversation. Things were going great until I heard a deep baritone voice ask, “Who made these ham biscuits?”

Flustered, I turned around to see one of the hottest guys at the party holding one of the biscuits I had made (great recipe, btw—ham, swiss, mustard, Worcestershire Sauce & poppy seeds). Sheepishly I admitted to being the chef.

Next thing I know he was coming over and complimenting my cooking. He was friendly, seemed to be in decent shape but not overly obsessive about it, great smile, tall, and really handsome. He could have been one of my fraternity brothers from undergrad. If I could only find one of these in lavender I would SO be pushing to legalize gay marriage!

Just as I was starting to relax, he asked me who I was pulling for. I gave him my pre-selected answer and prayed he wouldn’t ask me anything else. He started talking about the current football season and I just nodded and agreed with him whenever he seemed to need approbation. Finally, I could tell he was winding things up and getting ready to make his exit to go talk to someone else. I was feeling pretty good about this. The key is to keep them talking and just nod and smile. If necessary, throw in a general question about the game, like “So you got any money riding on this?” I can totally pull this off.

“Well, dude, he said, “it’s been cool chattin’ with you. These biscuits kick ass.” With that I saw him extending his arm.

Expecting a handshake, I stuck out my hand. Unfortunately, he was going for the knuckle-to-knuckle punch so I ended up palming his knuckle with my open hand. He looked at me for a second, and then awkwardly just wandered away.

Damn. It sucks to fumble when you're so close to the finish line.