Does this happen to everyone, or is it just me? On my cab ride from the St. Louis airport to my hotel, my driver decided to engage in what I have come to identify as my standard hockey fan to cab driver discussion. Whenever I mention that I am in town for a hockey game, the response is always that my boyfriend must be on the team. When I say no, they then proceed to explain to me that I need to start dating one. Hahaha! I’m laughing trying to come up with one hockey player that I could possibly fathom as strong enough to handle someone like me. I’m drawing a blank here. And it’s not just in the cabs, it’s at every game, too. “Is that your husband?” “Which one is your boyfriend?” Ahh! Anyway, this cabbie was hysterical. In his thick East African accent he volunteered his best strategy for me to acquire a hockey playing husband, “Everything is open in the Internet. You just find one and send him an email with your picture, and he’ll see that, and he’ll say, ‘Yes, that is my woman.’” Wouldn’t it be nice if things were that easy!?
I went out for Italian (again) because my concierge recommended the place. I had to try these toasted raviolis that everyone was raving about. They were yummy – good call! The funny thing is that St. Louis reminds me of Columbus. I kept feeling like I was back in the Arena District. Maybe that had something to do with the fact that Phoenix was playing there tonight, but there were a lot of similarities I was noticing between my trip to Columbus last season, and my first night in St. Louis. I even noticed the same restaurant I picked up that boy in last season…you remember…how I learned not to get into cars with strange boys…LOL. Anyway, I noticed myself in the same mindset while I was having dinner. I was sitting there trying to assess if the boy across the room was prime for the attack, until he whipped out his cell phone and I lost all interest. Guys, if you want to know a secret, when you use your cell phone in bar-like settings, you are cock blocking yourself. See, I naturally assume that on the other end of that text screen is a muley ball and chain. Gross. Oh well, at least a Paul Walker movie was on TV tonight. *sigh*
Eventually, my waiter and I got into the hockey discussion. As it turned out hockey was his life. I will still never cease to be shocked when I hear an American say that. It’s not that I don’t think that you’re “real” fans, but usually the Yanks that do like the sport, don’t like it as much as football, baseball, or basketball. So, he wanted to “talk hockey” with me for most of the night which finally culminated in him proposing to me. It was the best marriage proposal I got all week! It went something like this, “I know you probably get this all the time because you love hockey so much, and I don’t have a ring or anything, but will you please marry me?” The funniest part was that he said it with a totally straight face, and was immediately embarrassed once he said it. He hoped he didn’t “offend” me by asking me to marry him. What does that even mean? Guys have been saying that all week! Is that an American thing? Why would I be offended if you were flirting with me? What is offensive about that? I don’t know…
Once again, I ate way too much and wobbled back to my hotel. As I was walking down the very long hallway to my room, I started to think about how my mom hadn’t texted me once during this trip. The joke usually is that, because I’m on the road so much, by the time my mom finally learns of my absence, she sends me the routine text message, “Where the fuck are you?” I was just thinking about how she must have finally gotten over the strange maternal “worry” she had whenever I was travelling on my own throughout the States. I figured she must just be used to it by now – maybe when she discovered that I had disappeared to Europe for four days without telling anyone, she let go of whatever reigns she thought she was holding. Nope! When I walked into my room, the first email I see is from my mom. The message had only five letters, “wtfru?” It made me laugh.
Anyway, now that I’m all caught up with my road blog, I’m going to head to bed. Don’t forget that tomorrow is game day! I’m sitting on the glass, dead centre ice, bench side. I have a feeling I’m not behind either bench because I’m right in the middle! Anyway, Tweet if you see me!
Top Photo: The view from my hotel room in St. Louis. The Gateway to the West.
