I don't know how many of you know what it's like to work on the road, but no matter what the job is, life on the road always has its ups and downs. One of the major disadvantages; the inability to hold a solid relationship...for many reasons.

On the flip side, one of the major advantages; meeting new people from across the country on a regular basis. Different thoughts, different ideologies, and often times, the random promiscuous hookup. Or...the situation where it was so close, but something got in the way.

To elaborate further, it was Monday night and I was watching arguably the best football game any of us will see all season (no Fandom from either teams, fyi). I found myself a little more buzzed than usual by half time, probably due to being at the bar the whole day before watching, yet again, football.

But what happened the day before? It started as o watched the most bored, lonely, completely disinterested wife sit next to her incredibly loud, obnoxious and pompous husband act like a 13 year old boy yell in excitement about a measly 4 yard run from his favorite running back. Over, and over again.

From 20 feet away on the other side of the shoehorn bar, our eyes met. And the silent attention I gave her from across the bar was more than she's seen in...who knows when? She giggled when I mocked her over zealous, trying to stay young and cool older husband. And her red cheeks, batting eyes and indirect look when I flashed her a wink coupled with a sly smirk told me that I've made her forget about the blow horn next to her.

As her husband's game ended, he was getting ready to pay the bill and leave. But seemingly fun, sexy, held back woman across from me wasn't ready to go, but what choice did she have? I saw her tell her husband "I'm going to the bathroom before leave..."

(Becausr this part could be integrated into the story, I'll stay true to what happened)...

I made sure to intercept the woman, making sure our interaction was brief as possible to get her caught it a sticky situation. As she walked back from the bathroom and headed back towards the bar, I stood up in the small crowd of people making their way to the exit to intercept her. My hand slid down her lower back, slipping in a small piece of folded paper between her belt buckle and her waist making sure her tight t-shirt covered the evidence. As her husband began approaching, still wailing on about his team, I quickly whispered, "No excuses"...

Who'd like to finish my story with me?