I would like to go on record to say that I blame the NFL for most of these blog mishaps. Why, you might ask? What is wrong with the NFL besides the obvious (the Steelers and Raiders). I would like to say that the NFL is at fault because the games are early to quite early. 1:00 is ridiculously premature to start celebrations, especially when roll call is at 10 at the local drinking establishment. Or is it? That means around 5:00 I am back at my abode, by my lonesome, without anything to do. Nothing to do but get on POF. That's right. POF is generally my amusement after a day o' celebration aka Seahawk Nation. 12th Man! #smartchoice #wisewoman
The start of our miniseries is no exception. There I was innocently minding my own business (read: not so innocently) when I stumbled across this gentleman...slash I saw his picture, thought he was cute, and started conversing with him. Now, I have many strong suits, but reading profiles completely during Sunday Fundays is not one of them. I may or may not have skipped a few "red flags" that were clearly on his profile. Whoops. More on that later.
I would say I started chatting it up with this character, which we shall call Antoine (names have been changed to protect the "innocent") around early December. Back and forth the conversations flew. Even a few phone calls were thrown in there for good measure. Side bar: I hate the phone. Obviously, I would come up with an excuse of how to get out of a nice convo with him ASAP. Which was pretty hard, because he was a talkative son of a gun. (This fact will be amusing to you, dear Reader, after a couple episodes of this here miniseries).
Point of this blog post: I started conversing with this human early December and didn't actually meet him until damn near February. OK, so it was playoffs. So, January. But when you are talking to Antoine for that long it seems like it was February. Just sayin'.
The fateful meeting happened on a precious Sunday Funday. But this time the Funday was cranked up a few octaves because the Seahawks were making a run for the Super of bowls. The run didn't last long, but it was run regardless. And Seattle was bursting with pride. AKA the bars were at capacity.
So, the meeting wasn't what we would call, ideal. It actually wasn't even close to ideal. But, my fateful Friend, the meeting happened anyway. As my friend's foot says, "Que Sera Sera".
You are going to have to wait for Act 2. The working title is, "The Meeting". Clever huh?