"Yuck, I don't like their outfits at all!"
My current colleague/future husband turned and leered at me, "they are NOT outfits, they are uniforms. There are no outfits in sports".
"Alright, I don't like their uniforms, at all."
It was our first date, then called an outing as we were coworkers, but now remembered as a date as we eventually married, a very hot and muggy day of baseball.
More than 10 years later I suffer through 17 days of Olympic competition with Mr. Rule. To be certain, there are few things more painful than watching men's figure skating with my husband, the fully out there straight man who fancies himself a sport authority. There is nothing uniform about these outfits.
"What is this guy wearing? Oh come on, this one is dressed as a clown! Feathers! That is a woman!" he rolls from his spot on the sofa for a better look. I peek over the top of my computer, "nice outfit". He looks back at me, "there are no outfits in real sports, nor is there music."
We move on to ice dancing. Offended by the very idea, compounded by the truly distasteful clothing, he refuses to watch, but like a a true disaster, he is drawn in. "What is THIS? Cowboys! I'm embarrassed. Who else can they offend? It's not just the Aborigines anymore." Walking in mid Hava Nagilla, "oh please God tell me they are from Israel". And to torment him, when Jack finally sat down to watch the team from the UK skate to Johnny Cash, I let them finish into that pile of pretzel like skating body twist before I announced, "they are brother and sister you know". It's my opinion that the scream that sent him running from the room should be assigned to the very clear and specific visual image he found in his head of he and his sister wrapped in a similar crab on crab formation. We are forever grateful that we missed the tango portion of the competition.
Last night I sat down to women's ski cross. Jack walked in just as Ophelie David from France was announced, "What's this? Oh, I thought we already watched men's cross". Ophelie David is a woman. Perhaps if she could bedazzle, or add some feathers to her outfit, maybe that would be helpful.
But not a snake, that would simply be too much.
My current colleague/future husband turned and leered at me, "they are NOT outfits, they are uniforms. There are no outfits in sports".
"Alright, I don't like their uniforms, at all."
It was our first date, then called an outing as we were coworkers, but now remembered as a date as we eventually married, a very hot and muggy day of baseball.
More than 10 years later I suffer through 17 days of Olympic competition with Mr. Rule. To be certain, there are few things more painful than watching men's figure skating with my husband, the fully out there straight man who fancies himself a sport authority. There is nothing uniform about these outfits.
"What is this guy wearing? Oh come on, this one is dressed as a clown! Feathers! That is a woman!" he rolls from his spot on the sofa for a better look. I peek over the top of my computer, "nice outfit". He looks back at me, "there are no outfits in real sports, nor is there music."
We move on to ice dancing. Offended by the very idea, compounded by the truly distasteful clothing, he refuses to watch, but like a a true disaster, he is drawn in. "What is THIS? Cowboys! I'm embarrassed. Who else can they offend? It's not just the Aborigines anymore." Walking in mid Hava Nagilla, "oh please God tell me they are from Israel". And to torment him, when Jack finally sat down to watch the team from the UK skate to Johnny Cash, I let them finish into that pile of pretzel like skating body twist before I announced, "they are brother and sister you know". It's my opinion that the scream that sent him running from the room should be assigned to the very clear and specific visual image he found in his head of he and his sister wrapped in a similar crab on crab formation. We are forever grateful that we missed the tango portion of the competition.
Last night I sat down to women's ski cross. Jack walked in just as Ophelie David from France was announced, "What's this? Oh, I thought we already watched men's cross". Ophelie David is a woman. Perhaps if she could bedazzle, or add some feathers to her outfit, maybe that would be helpful.
But not a snake, that would simply be too much.
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