Tailgating is a very popular American pastime. So popular, that people spend thousands of dollars on equipment – motorhomes, barbecues, TVs, chairs, food and alcohol – in an attempt to have the best tailgate party on the lot. According to Wikipedia, “many people participate even if their vehicles do not have tailgates.” Sounds like me and Oreggano, however, they neglected to include one tiny detail: not only do we participate sans tailgate, we participate regardless of whether or not we know the owners at the lot.
We pride ourselves in perusing the tailgate lot and enjoying shots, beverages and food with people we’ve never met and will most likely never see again. We enjoy the concessions even more once all of the tailgaters have gone to the game. Nothing beats sitting in somebody’s lawn chair, drinking their beer and listening to a distant crowd cheer. When I arrived to join Oreggano, Sleepless and Ice Cream Man for this weekend’s party, they advised me, “We’re out of vodka.” By ‘we,’ they meant the tailgate party we were currently commandeering. A few minutes later, Sleepless had a solution, “Vodka bottle, two spots down, unoccupied.”
We enjoyed a few more beverages and then headed to Live Longer’s for a post-tailgate party cocktail. Cocktail quickly moved from singular to plural and a few hours later we cleaning carpets (not a euphemism) and singing 80s songs. Live Longer shared a story about someone who thought the Bee Gees song, More Than A Woman, was actually Bonano Woman. This sparked a discussion about misunderstood lyrics. “I can help decipher. I’m a certified teacher,” Live Longer’s husband, Certified Teacher advised. We were glad he was there to help. Without him, we’re just tailgating desperados. Why don’t we come to our senses? We’ve been outright offensive for so long now.