Last night, Jamie scored us some suite tickets for the Avalanche game against the Dallas Stars. For those lowlifes who’ve never been in a suite (OK, admittedly, I was one of ‘em until I married Mr. He-Who-Has-Connections) allow me to expand upon how the better half lives.
Watching from a suite is a completely different experience. First, even though moments ago you were with the masses in the lobby, somehow when you enter your little box you feel like you’re on top of the world. Kinda like when I go for weeks with a filthy car and start passing judgment upon everyone else’s dirt the moment I finally make it to the car wash. Snobbery. It ain’t pretty but it sure feels good once and a while.
Second, a little printout of the game summary appears after every period. Not that I care about how much T.O.I. (time on ice) each player has and other such useless knowledge. Of course, the ESPN stats junkies of the world would be in hog heaven.
Third, there is suite envy. You have some suites that are fully loaded with oodles of food and drinks. Ours was not one of them. We got water. Oh yeah, and ice. We had to resort to buying food from the vendors, where you have to mortgage your house just to pay for a hamburger. The folks in the suite next to us had the works–fabulous food, drinks and desserts. And yes, there was envy.
I had my strategy all planned out. I would hop over the barrier, ask if I could use their restroom (ours was out of soap) and while everyone was watching the game, clean out the joint. However, Jamie said this would not be appropriate suite behavior. He would’ve changed his tune the moment he sunk his teeth into their chocolate cake with little decadent suite sprinkles on it. His loss. And what’s the worse that could’ve happened? OK, an arrest. But I could’ve made the news: “Pregnant Lady Fakes Pee and Cleans Out Suite.”
Now THAT would’ve been a suite memory…..