Since I know you guys are dying to hear about how my curling-watching night went, here’s the scoop. First of all, I’m sure curling is an exciting sport to play and all, but it’s not really the most exciting thing in the world to watch. The amusing brush-the-ice thing can only keep you entertained for so long. In my case, it kept me amused for no more than 15 minutes. I spent the next 75 minutes trying to keep myself entertained by taking random pictures of people having fun sliding around, sweeping stones and brushing the ice. And they boy’s team didn’t even win!
Towards the end of the game, I was bored enough to try to chat up an elderly man sitting near me. It was either my question was too dumb (“Do you usually play here?”) or he didn’t hear me (the boy always says I need to speak up) but I was cheerfully ignored. My guess is it was the former because later I found out that he’s actually part of one of the teams playing for the local league. Oops.
When we were leaving the curling arena, it was snowing heavily, but I just couldn’t resist asking the boy to make a stop at the nearby Tim Hortons for a cup of hot chocolate and an apple fritter, so we did. Fast forward, we were back on the highway in the middle of a blizzard and my stomach started to hurt badly. And I mean REALLY badly. Of course I didn’t tell the boy about it until we passed another Tim Hortons, meaning that I wouldn’t get the release I badly needed until the next Tim Hortons in Kitchener.
I couldn’t be happier when we got to that particular Tim Hortons. It was the one and only time I ever entered Tim Hortons only to use the bathroom. I tried to sneak out of the place stealthily after I was done with my business in the bathroom while hoping that none of the people behind the counter would notice, but of course I had to have a problem opening the door out. C’est la vie.
Don’t worry, Tim Hortons. I might not be Canadian and may never be one, but after last night’s incident, you will always have a special place in my heart. And no, I’m not going to sacrifice another of my CSI watching night just for the sake of watching a curling game. Unless the boy bribes me with something really good. Like a Vietnamese dinner.