Excuse me, sir, but you’re in my seat

“Do you know where the seats are?” Kayla asks looking down at our Rush hockey tickets.

“I haven’t the slightest idea,” I answered. “Row 6, seat 7 and 8. Hey, look at that – 6, 7,8.”

“Ha, that doesn’t help much.”

Since living in Rapid, I’ve been to about two hockey games, so I am not familiar with the landscape of the new(ish) hockey arena. But, as luck would have it, we took about 10 steps and looked up only to notice we had arrived at our appointed section.

“Ha, well I’m glad we didn’t ask anyone,” said Kayla.

We ascended the stairs but were stopped at the top by a stair crossing guard. They have people working foot traffic at hockey games. We must be in the big time. Anyway, we were still not 100-percent sure we knew where we were going, so we asked the trusted crossing guard in the neon yellow vest. Surely, he must know!

“Can you tell us where our sets are?” Kayla asked Mister Crossing Guard.

He took a quick glance at us, at the tickets, at the crowd, back to the tickets and circled back to us.

“Right there on this first row.”

“Oh, great thanks!”

When we were given the green light of passage I took the lead to our seats.

“Kayla, there are people in our seats,” I told her. It was a reasonable assumption. After all, we were 10 to 15 minutes late for the game. Perhaps these people, who just so happened to be an 80-year-old and an 8-year-old boy, thought we weren’t coming and decided to sit in our seats.

“Umm… excuse me sir,” I began. “I think you might be sitting in our seats. We have seven and eight … ”

The old man stared up at me with confused, glossy eyes. ‘Oh, good Lord, this old man is losing it and I’m going to have to spell it our for him,’ I thought to myself.

“See here – it says seven and eight,” I said pointing to my ticket with just a touch on condescension in my voice. 

“Hannah! Look!” Kayla said, pointing down to the row directly in front of Old Man Winter and his little elf. It turns out, Mister Crossing Guard led us astray. We were in the wrong row and I was the jackass attempting to remove an old man and child from their appointed seats.

“Oh, oops! Never mind. I lied. You’re fine. Those are your seats. I’m just going to awkwardly sit in front of you now for the next two hours. Enjoy the game!”

Thank goodness for 32 ounces of Bud Light and our good humor – each got us through in a different way. Although I should probably feel ashamed by my actions to kick out the elderly and young, and a part of me does, I don’t. Hey, if you’re in my seat, watch out. 

America!