The night before my first 15's tournament SB told me that we were invited for a movie and games at a teammate's home. What he failed to tell me was that he and said teammate were both injured and would not be too concerned with being in tip top rugby form the next day. I arrived at the flat to discover a handful of Canadians playing dice and watching that Will Ferrell movie about a singer's life, that was pretty funny. Despite much urging I resisted joining the game. I resisted for two reasons: first, I am not a big game person. I prefer physical activity and tire quickly of most games or become unbearably competitive. There have been a few exceptions. I have enjoyed Cranium, that National Geographic explorer game, catch phrase (within a certain time frame), and most recently, mah jong with SB's family. I may like chess if I ever took it up.
The second reason, and the most important, was that from the red faces and eye glazing, I could see that the group was well lubricated and I would not be able to catch up even if I wanted to. They were at the point that their taste buds had been drowned and they were quite adventurous in their drink mastering. My bottle of diet coke was confiscated to be mixed with rum, beer, and who knows what else went into that center cup.
Eventually the party moved on in the direction of another gathering, this time of hockey players. SB and I intended to make our breakaway then so I could have dinner and rest for the game. As we rounded the corner though, we saw some fellow rugby players in a bar. We diverted into the bar, intending only to say hello, but as I have mentioned before, SB is a dawdler. First we threw peanuts back and forth. Then there was some chatter, then more peanut throwing, then rinse and repeat. After some hints, I was forced to interrupt and announce my immense hunger (it was almost 11). SB finally got frog marched outside but then did not know where we could get dinner now that it was so late. So we marched back into the bar and got pub food.
We settled down with the rugby boys and while we had dinner, high content Belgian beer flowed freely. Then more chatter. Belly full, I was ready to go home. SB continued to merrily dawdle. It was not entirely his fault because I was also having a good time, but I had a game coming quickly upon me. I didn't want to turn this into an event, but then suddenly shirts disappeared and dancing ensued.
We didn't leave until almost 2 am. Since he didn't have to play in the morning, SB failed to understand why I may have been irritated at the late hour. He slept very well as I was scrambling to assemble my kit and make it to the pitch on time in the morning. Grrr
Though I must admit a fun time was had by all. I was laughing hysterically when I wasn't cringing.
The second reason, and the most important, was that from the red faces and eye glazing, I could see that the group was well lubricated and I would not be able to catch up even if I wanted to. They were at the point that their taste buds had been drowned and they were quite adventurous in their drink mastering. My bottle of diet coke was confiscated to be mixed with rum, beer, and who knows what else went into that center cup.
Eventually the party moved on in the direction of another gathering, this time of hockey players. SB and I intended to make our breakaway then so I could have dinner and rest for the game. As we rounded the corner though, we saw some fellow rugby players in a bar. We diverted into the bar, intending only to say hello, but as I have mentioned before, SB is a dawdler. First we threw peanuts back and forth. Then there was some chatter, then more peanut throwing, then rinse and repeat. After some hints, I was forced to interrupt and announce my immense hunger (it was almost 11). SB finally got frog marched outside but then did not know where we could get dinner now that it was so late. So we marched back into the bar and got pub food.
We settled down with the rugby boys and while we had dinner, high content Belgian beer flowed freely. Then more chatter. Belly full, I was ready to go home. SB continued to merrily dawdle. It was not entirely his fault because I was also having a good time, but I had a game coming quickly upon me. I didn't want to turn this into an event, but then suddenly shirts disappeared and dancing ensued.
We didn't leave until almost 2 am. Since he didn't have to play in the morning, SB failed to understand why I may have been irritated at the late hour. He slept very well as I was scrambling to assemble my kit and make it to the pitch on time in the morning. Grrr
Though I must admit a fun time was had by all. I was laughing hysterically when I wasn't cringing.
SB dances while Canadian N rocks the power ballad.
Note that everyone else is pretending not to notice.
Note that everyone else is pretending not to notice.
Canadian C applies face paint while SB notices something...
"Say, is that a nipple piercing? I can help you remove that."
One of the memorable moments of the night occurred at the discovery of the nipple ring. Canadian N indicated that he had quite of bit of enjoyment when women played with it. SB promptly gave it a small tug and told him that every time a woman touched said nipple ring, he hoped Canadian N would think of him.
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