Okay, so Sunday is the 18th anniversary, and the wife, bro/sis-in-law and I are headed to Heinz Field. No tickets, but we have a green lot parking pass and we're gonna tailgate, walk around, enjoy the atmosphere. We even had a tv ready so that we could eat and watch the game on a beautiful Sun. afternoon.
So we get into town Fri. night. My bro-in-law says that we'll go out Sat. afternoon, buy beer, pick up a new jersey for me and the wife, etc. So, about 2 pm Sat., he comes over to the house. I ask if he's ready to go. "No, I've got my jersey so I don't need one. And dad has beer." So the fact that I didn't have a jersey was apparently not an issue. And, I then find out that we have to leave for Grandma's house, so there's no time for me to go get a jersey.
Then, he and the wife decide that they are going downtown Sat. night. I'm getting PO'ed because I want to leave by 9 am (at least) on Sunday and I know he'll be out all night drinking. "No, we'll be home by at least 12:30." Okay, whatever. Then, we get home from family events and I start to load up the car. Come to find out that the bro-in-law has bought no snacks, no ice, and dad has no beer. Great.
So I leave the house at 7 am to get food, ice, cups, etc. When I leave, I tell everyone to be ready at 9 am for us to leave. I get back home at 9, and the wife is the only one who has even showered. By 9:30 (already late) we are completely ready to go. At 10:45, my bro-in-law FINALLY comes down and says that he's ready. By this time, I am PISSED!!! No, not PO'ed. Outright PISSED!!! Because my lovely wife wants to have a nice day on our anniversary, I put my feelings aside. Now, keep in mind, we still have to stop and get beer. As we do, paying outrageous prices for several six-packs, my bro decides to have a couple of shots at the bar.
We are FINALLY on our way to the game. As we try to fight through outrageous traffic, the bro starts hitting a flask full of SoCo. Great, just what I need, an open container violation on my anniversary. We finally get off on Grant Street and start weaving our way towards the north side when I realize that I am about to pee myself, and I haven't even started drinking yet. So, as we are stuck in horrendous traffic, I hop out to hit a portajon while the wife jumps into the drivers' seat. My bro gives me a coke to take with me on the walk, as I'm assuming that they will beat me to the parking lot.
(BTW, the traffic around Heinz is obscene. The cops just sit there doing nothing. I know Pittsburgh is a brutal city for traffic, but what the crap? They should be able to do a LITTLE better than that. I also realized that the parking pass was a waste of time and money, at least when you leave two hours late).
After relieving myself in a lovely portajon where some chick had just left a huge dump, I start walking. All of the sudden, I see the wife zip past me, waving. Thanks honey, I appreciate you stopping to let me get back in the car. As a side note, I also realize that the diet coke I have is also loaded with SoCo. Great, preacher gets an public drinking ticket at the game on his anniversary. Since I got time to spare, I start asking people if they have extra tickets, and I pick up one for $10. Sweet, now I just need three more like that.
I keep hitting the scalpers on the way up the street, and I'm getting squat. Still asking $150, $200 a pop, more than I'm willing to pony up. I'm getting more and more pissed as I walk--and keep in mind that my coat is in the car so I'm freezing my arse off. My BIL comes walking back to me, carrying a coat full of beer. "You want one?" At this point I really don't care, so I popped a top.
Well, the ticket search is going nowhere, so we walk up the hill to the parking lot and grab some beers. We then start walking around looking for tickets and there is nothing. I swear, STEELER NATION IS AN ILLNESS!!!! Idiots are buying seats for $200 well into the first quarter. We decide to walk around to McFadden's, so I start looking to unload my ticket. I sell it to some girl for $35, but she's so happy with the price that she gives me $50. Sweet, enough to pay some of my fine for the open container ticket I'm surely going to get!
As we're walking, I start to realize that I've already had waaaaaay to much to drink. I very rarely have more than a couple of beers at once, and I've had a SoCo and coke and at least 4 beers in a little more than an hour. I am FEELIN' it, big time. My BIL stops to pee in a parking lot. Sweet, a public urination ticket to go along with our other felonies and misdemeanors! (I managed to wait until we got to the bar to go, but I probably gave myself uromycitisis poisoning in the process).
So we hit McFadden's and I'm the only one who DOESN'T get carded going in. Sweet, I find out that I'm an old fart with multiple misdemeanors. Happy Anniversary!
I also realize that my wife's anniversary gift is now covered because she got carded. That will make her happy since her entire day consisted of chasing her drunk husband and brother around the stadium.
McFadden's is absolutely INSANE! It was not our kind of place, but I'll have to say it was a lot of fun for a once a year event. We go in and half of my wife's family is there already! We find her uncle, cousin, etc. in the place. Now I have to laugh at this because the only way that I see my family at a bar is if they are outside protesting that it should be closed and we should return to prohibition. But anyway, we are having a good time and I FINALLY get to watch the game for a while. Of course, this is just about the time that Ben goes to the turf, so I get to watch and worry for the next 20 minutes.
Fortunately, by this time my BIL has taken out a second mortgage on his house to buy a bucket of beer and rounds of JagerBombs for everyone, since this had now become a family gathering. By the time that Byron Leftwich finally stumbled/fumbled/bumbled into the end zone, I was hammered. I mean, REALLY hammered, at least for me. I haven't been that drunk in 10 years, since I went on a seminary trip to Mexico.
Even still, I was the lone voice of reason among the men of the family. My BIL owes enough in student loans to put a serious dent in the national debt (he's getting his second masters degree, even after it took him seven years to get his undergrad finished). He's wanting to spend another $58 on rounds when I looked at him and said, "NO!!!" Felt like I was yelling at my dog for taking a dump on the carpet, but that's about the only way to talk to him when he's drunk. Plus, he still has four beers stuffed in his jacket.
At the end of the third, we decide to go back to the car to relax, watch the tv, eat some food. (We really didn't eat much at all during the day, which contributed significantly to my drunken stupor). I knew I was in bad shape, but the BIL is REALLY gone! I'm chasing him all over the place, trying to keep him from running into people or getting into a fight for trying to steal people's beer or yelling f-bombs in front of little kids. Let me tell ya, in my condition, if I was the voice of reason, then we were in pretty bad shape!
Next thing I know, the BIL is SPRINTING up the hill to the parking lot. I took about three strides and said, "Screw it!" I nearly busted my butt and was about to puke. Sweet, another anniversary gift!
We finally get to the car, and get him calmed down. He passes out about 7 seconds after we get him into the back seat. I'm feeling like crap because my wife is having to drive us out of there on our anniversary. Luckily, I have the coolest wife in the world, so she's just laughing at all of our stupidity. We got to King's in Monroeville, which allowed my BIL to hit his utterly hilarious philosophical phase of coming down off his drunk. We laughed all the way home.
So, all in all, none of this went the way I planned it. But even still, it turned out to be a pretty hilarious day at the stadium. See u guys come playoff time!