A Night Out in Oil Country

Normally I don't tend to post on the weekend... Perhaps I'm procrastinating. But Motha-F what a night on Friday. Yep, trouble found me and I was quivering in the corner by the end of it all. A friend of mine invited me out to the Oilers game- seemed like a good, fairly affordable night out on the town. But the fun wound up being a bit... stifled.

First of all, I brought my new toy along (camera). Oh yes, that baby fit in my bag and wasn't confiscated when we were searched on the way into the building. All was good. I was having a great time taking pix with the 12x optical zoom, on sports mode. Mostly, I was just playing around, hoping there would be a fight I could catch mid-swing or some other photo-worthy carnage. Check this out, first on regular and then on zoom.





That's the FAR net... Cool eh?

Anyways, pretty soon security interupted my photo-orgy. She asked if I was taking video. No (ok I took a short clip). She said it was a professional-looking camera with an awfully large lens and wondered for what purposes I taking photos. I told her that it wasn't a professional camera and it was for personal use only. We quibbled for a bit and she finally left me alone. Although my fun had been snuffed out somewhat, at least the camera wasn't confiscated and I wasn't kicked out of the colliseum! Later, I saw the kid beside me with a big foam puck on his head taking photos with his compact camera. What the? He didn't get hounded by security! I guess size does matter, at least when it comes to camera lenses and female security guards.

Then the annoying guy behind me asked if I'd please sit back because I was blocking his view. So not only was I paying $7.50 for beer, unable to play with my camera, scrunched in these tiny seats with no leg room, I also had to lean back and not move... Krike. Again, no one said anything to puckhead boy beside me. Surely the ginormous puck on his lid must have been obscuring people's views! Maybe I should have informed the guy behind me that his cheesy comments were ruining the game for me! Huh, HUH? Did he stop to think about that? Ohhhh Nooooo.

Here are some examples of the constant cheesefest I had to endure...

When talking about one of the players:
Where did it go? (other person: What?) Your career!

A player gets checked against the boards:
Chicklets anyone? Chicklets???

Bad call:
Refeerrreeeees- Puuuhleeeease!

Talking about that store 'San Francisco':
It's like cheap cotton at San Francisco. That's why when you buy a joke t-shirt there, it shrinks and shit. 'Cause the joke's on us.

Haha, ok that last one made me half smirk.

After the game I was trying to take a pic of Marilyn and I with my camera. Several men stopped to ask if we wanted them to take our picture for us. No thanks. Later I mentioned that the pic may have worked out better if I'd let someone take it for us. Marilyn gave me shit, "Like the cute guy who wanted to take our picture? No, apparently she wants to do it herself!!!" Oops. Just like everything else in my life, apparently. There's a message in there I think. Man, I'm such a meathead.

Later on that night I met some other friends for a drink. It was good fun, but then I got back to my car to find the driverside window smashed. Nothing was stolen, but I wasn't impressed. Geez, if only I'd caught them in the act, I could have grabbed my camera and taken their photo! That zoom on sports mode would have definitely caught them running away! Oh who am I kidding, they would have been around the corner by the time I'd fumbled around with the thing! Anyways, the drive home was quite chilly. In the end, a fun affordable night on the town ended up being a wee bit painful. I should've known not to go to Whyte Ave after an Oil game!!!