Curtis (he’s very wonderful) and I went to the Ohio State vs. Purdue University football game this weekend.
The temperature was in the thirties, with windchill dipping into the teens. We felt sorry for ourselves, but even sorrier for everyone on the field who didn’t have the privilege of wearing eight layers under a down coat.
We mostly watched the game, but stadium seats aren’t made for personal bubbles. When you talk to one person, you’re talking to everyone within ten feet. The gentleman behind us, married, was having a rough night. Preface: pregnant wife flying from Los Angeles to Dallas Fort Worth. Her late flight will likely make her miss her connection.
Husband gets off the phone, disgruntled. Turns to his buddy,
“I called customer service at the airport and asked them to help my wife.”
“What did they say?”
“I asked them to send over a wheelchair to hurry her to the next gate.” Pause, for dramatic effect. Then, with a slight increase in volume, “They said no!”
“Dude, what? That’s the worst.”
Husband says, “The guy goes, ‘She’s pregnant, not disabled. We can’t send her a wheelchair.’ “
I think the wife ended up getting where she needed to be—but not before most of section 114 heard about the perils of pregnancy, travel, and flying through DFW.
The game ended in a great upset—the underdog (Purdue, for those of us who aren’t avid college football followers) won. I learned that fans only like it when their team wins. By the end of the fourth quarter, when the score was Purdue 48 and OSU 13, an Ohio player accidentally stumbled into the end zone for a touch down. You could have heard a pin drop in the stadium, almost half-full of Buckeye fans.
Most of the stadium spilled onto the field as soon as the clock ran out, the guy with the pregnant wife forgot his frustration in his excitement, and the Buckeye fans filed out—shaking sorry heads and stomping icy feet.