Puking, aka All Star Hockey Game

I started this weekend not so happy. Here it was, the game I had been waiting for since I signed up for a full season ticket to the Thrashers last April. That was a big chunk of change I was handing over but it garanteed my a seat at the All Star Game here in Atlanta. Of course after paying for the tickets for the next 8 months, I get into the season and find anyone with any kind of ticket package (as few as 7 games) can get tickets. That was the first annoyance. Then I get the e-mail with my seat and check with my hockey buddy (who sits in the seat next to me) and find she is on the opposite side of the arena. We contact our sales rep and he basically shrugged his shoulders and said "oh well". This was the second and third annoyance. So by Friday night, I am not so enthused about hanging out in the arena pretty much by myself. I make plans to ride MARTA to the game with said hockey buddy and we talk and chat the short ride in. We go find our seats because they are no where near where we normally sit. Then we part ways and head of by our lonely selves to sit alone. My phone rings, yay there is an empty seat during Saturday's Super Skills event, I make the trek to the other end of the arena and make my way into the middle of the row. Yay, Saturday night just improved 100%. Tonight, there are three, yes three empty seats by my hockey buddy.

This was even more important tonight. By this point you might be asking about the title.... Yes, dear reader (All Things Jen(nifer), this means you) about a minute into the game a young hockey fan is making his way up the steps towards the exit, he stops about three rows ahead of me and blows chunks. Even better, he gets to my row and blows chunks again. Clearly, this kid will not be eating spaghetti anytime soon. Then the arena staff make an attempt to clean, however, the smell is still there and I am in the aisle seat. Life is not good. I look to the other end and see empty seats near my friend. I hightail it to the other end of the arena at the first tv intermission. There is much rejoicing with my hockey buddy and I.

Moral of this story, you might ask? Get a better sales rep. Yup, that's right, we are both firing our sales rep and going to someone who cares about their customers.