This is the first game where someone rode up front with me. Jenn D. was kind enough to give me an extra ticket she got through a Cingular competition. The passenger seat of the limo is really not a seat. It's more of a plastic electronic control station with a nice cup holder for my bottled water. However, if you have a pillow to sit on, it's really not that uncomfortable as long as you're less than 6ft tall. Fortunately Jenn is on the petite side so the accomodations worked well. We snagged the others and made our way up to Heinz Field. The crew was much more quiet than usual.
We made it to the lot and Jenn and I went off to the Motorola hospitality tent to mingle with the cingular team and eat some compimentary bland stir-fry. It was nice to see some of the old faces of AT&T Wireless. I showed them the sign I'd made and got a lukewarm response. My sign was for TRENT DILFER #8 of the Cleveland Browns. Unfortunately, over the years we have assigned him the name Trent Dildo. My sign had a little flap and when you lifted it up, Dilfer #8 would magically transform into Dildo 8". When I showed the sign to the cell phone people, reactions were mixed.
We stopped back at the limo and they had the hood up. Danny was feverishly disconnecting the alternator. Apparently, no one could get the lights in the back to go out. The last thing we needed was a dead battery after the game concluded. Fortunately, no one asked for my assistance. It's commonly understood that all I do is drive from point A to Point B and then back to Point A. Occassionally, I'll perform "nursing duties" but whatever that might constitute, I'll leave to the imagination.
We made it to our row of seats on the 5th tier. One of the cell phone people couldn't sit in her correct seat so she pretty much threw the entire row into chaos for about a quarter. I ended up sitting in between Jenn and this mammoth woman whose thigh encroached on my mid-section. I swear to god - her thigh made it well over the arm rest and was massaging my ribcage for most of the first half. Something similar once happened to me on a US Air flight. You really don't have much of a recourse in matters like this. You just have to "take one for the team." No big deal though - I survived. What made it a bit annoying was that this woman was a bit self-righteous. She bombarded me with some personal questions and seemed to view me as inferior. She had this odd attitude like - I didn't realize that if I accepted these tickets I'd have to sit next to him. No problem though.
My Trent Dildo sign was a big hit. I paraded it along the 5th tier walkway as Trent Dilfer #8. The boos reigned down on me, but I told the hostile crowd to be patient. On my return, I exposed the Dildo 8" and was greeted with warmth and love.
For the second half, we hit the pit as usual. Jenn got a Primanti's sandwich which she didn't care for much. I've always proclaimed that those sandwiches are the best food option at Heinz Field. What you've got to realize is that there's a huge quality disparity between a sandwich from Heinz Field and one made fresh in the Strip District. Still, they're far superior to the othe main options - a hot dog or kielbassi, the Benkovitz fish sandwich, Papa Duke's gyro, Quaker Steak wings, or any of the other offerings. Trust my judgement on this one. I've studied the matter thoroughly.
While in the pit, I was showing off my sign and some kind of militant security guard informed me that the sign had to go. It was either leave the stadium with the sign or hand it over. I was aghast. You'd think this tyrant was some kind of hulking figure, but no, she was probably about 19 and weighed in at less than a hundred pounds. I really didn't have much of a choice in the matter, so I handed it off to the kid next to me. He got scared and dropped it on the ground. She picked it up and disappeared to the confiscated goods locker. Sucked.
We made it home safe and sound a little after 1am.