He should have been in a very good mood, of course, but he was not a happy camper. You are welcome. Black tie affairs are not my thing, and this was the blackest of black tie affairs. The room was full of politicians and influential people, and I didn’t know anyone. Mainly because I’m not a money hoarder. Sure, he was sitting in the lap of luxury, surrounded by powerful and prestigious people. I was being served imported caviar and smoked oysters wrapped in aged prosciutto, sipping a fine Riesling served in real glass. We were between courses, waiting for the show stopper, the main course, grilled salmon topped with sun-dried tomatoes, fresh buffalo mozzarella and some French sauce that I couldn’t pronounce even if a tutor gave me, he explained what the little funny The accent thing on the e is really supposed to do, if I was born in Paris and if my life depended on it.

i was miserable

I would have been much happier wearing jeans, eating hot wings at a sports bar somewhere in a bib because the sauce on the wings would make you look like a greasy monkey after a lube job when you were done sucking the meat off the bones. With a cold beer in hand, watching the endless pregame shows leading up to the Super Bowl.

That’s what got me into this mess, the Super Bowl. It was going to be the mighty Pittsburgh Steelers and their gigantic quarterback, Ben Roethlisberger, taking on the Cardinals, a heart child led by aging legend Kurt Warner. My old platonic friend, Steve, had gotten himself some game tickets, 5 days of Super Bowl parties, and endless revelry, and since we had been friends for twenty years and he couldn’t find a real date to put on his arm, he decided to take me on the vacation of my life. I agreed. Why not? I had known Steve since elementary school. We had always been closed. Super Bowl week in Tampa Bay. Sun and Fun and the best NFL game shared with a few million people in the Tampa-St.Pete area. Beaches, muscular men in bathing suits, sun, parties and memories that would last a lifetime.

At least that was the idea.

But instead of eating hot wings and attending loud, rowdy parties, we were at a fundraising dinner for the Governor the night before the big game. As people flooded the city streets, freaking out and having fun, I was expecting a delicate fish drowning in a French sauce I couldn’t pronounce and certainly didn’t want to eat. Instead of talking about the Cardinals’ beefy D-Line chasing Big Ben around the field, I was listening to dull, mind-numbing talk about budget discrepancies and proprietary funding grants that would study the mating habits of the bog moth. Instead of meeting a hunky Latino lover and dancing the night away, she was thinking of ending it all with a pen to her eye so she could escape the tedium. There was excitement just outside the aged and sculpted double doors, just beyond the fences guarded by security guards having more fun than me.

Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate culture and class instead. The art on the walls of the large dining room was stunning and probably priceless. The long table was antique, and the setting was ornate. You couldn’t find better service at a 5 star resort. But this was supposed to be an adventure. an escape A once-in-a-lifetime exciting escape from the humdrum reality of 9 to 5 life. I was divorced for almost two years, and in that time, I had done little more than work and pay the bills, cope with life after of a failed marriage. So Steve said, “Hey, why don’t you go to the Super Bowl with me? It’ll be great. I don’t have a date, I need to meet some high-profile clients and take care of them.” some business, but it will be great. I think you need a blast!”

It seemed like a GREAT idea. I loved football, and even though my team, the Jets, didn’t play, going to any Super Bowl was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. The festivities surrounding the game were legendary. I’d thought we’d be partying, having fun, but all we’d done so far was attend sweltering dinner parties like this, night after night, while Steve hunted for government contracts, like he was doing now. I ended up stuck, alone in crowded rooms like this. People I didn’t know. People, frankly, did not want to know. They all looked great in their tuxedos, tailcoats, and fine dresses. Frankly, I looked stunning in my evening gown, but what a waste. All these people worried and talked about was money and power and going to more dinners like this. Married men flirt with me, the only person I knew in this stuffy mansion was busy chatting with other people. I wanted him to give me a few minutes of his time too so I could chat with him. I really wanted to give him a piece of my mind.

I almost wasted the week and I was bored. The only time I enjoyed were the mornings by the hotel pool. I sighed and looked at the pink fish as the perfectly dressed servant with great posture placed a plate in front of me. He was too depressed to even make an attempt to eat it.

“I also find salmon boring.” The man next to me said quietly, leaning towards me. He was very handsome. He had curly dark hair and devilish eyes. “Almost as boring as constantly talking about budget underfunding by state Congress and problems with Democrats in state government.”

“Amen.” I said. I took a sip of my wine, pierced the tiny, luscious piece of fish, and put my fork down. I’ve always been intrigued why rich people pay so much money for food and then eat portions that wouldn’t fill a Happy Meal carton. “I don’t think I can eat this.” I said.

“Me neither.” she nodded herself, taking the napkin from her lap and placing it on her plate. “I think it’s as much the company and the atmosphere as the food.” he continued. “These people are already dead and don’t know it, they’re just haggling over funding so they can buy better coffins for themselves while Tampa Bay pulses with life, getting ready to see Big Ben and Kurt the Magician do it in tomorrow’s big game?” Do you want to get out of here and get some real food? Enjoy the city and the night? Escape from this tomb?

I looked at him and he smiled, a smile that told me he was looking for trouble. The thing was, trouble and fun were EXACTLY what he was looking for.

“I know this place with great burgers and wings, big screen TVs, and the ice coldest 16oz cups you’ll find in the state of Florida!” she added. That did it.

“Absolutely.” I answered and stood up. He joined me. One of the ever-present servants ran over to us.

“Is everything alright, ma’am?” she asked herself politely.

“Good.” I said, “We just remembered that we have something exciting to do.”

With that, we were out the massive oak double doors at the end of the chamber as two doormen opened them, ready to find the excitement promised to me when I agreed to come to Florida, even if I was to find it. with a new friend instead of an old one.