More Important Than ...

"A mini-break means more than just shagging," as Bridget Jones once said.

Is it true?

Mini-breaks offer rare opportunities to step out of everyday life and spend 24 hours a day with someone. Complete with less distractions, less personal space, and less housecleaning.

It's been awhile, maybe never, since I've spent 96 hours - 22 of which were in a car - with a guy I'm dating. Until two weekends ago.

I went to his hometown, met the friends, tailgated, watched a football game, met some family.

It went well. I had a good time. My foot remained several feet away from my mouth. No major foibles.

Except one ...

SDG is a die hard, college football fan. He hasn't missed a home game in 15 years. He wears his oversized U of M jersey, cap, and even logoed pants.

Having gone to a university that wasn't particularly known for its sports, this is all very foreign to me. At the tailgate spot we ate made to order omelettes pre-game. Bloody Marys and a rather extensive bar was set up. Post-game menu included soup and steak sandwiches. I knew I'd eat and drink well, I just wasn't sure of the game itself.

College football is SDG's passion, or perhaps his vice. There are worse vices, to be sure. But SDG has his game day routine down, and it's pretty much a full day event. He doesn't drink alcohol or much liquid pre-game. This is to ensure that he remains on his bleacher seat for all four quarters. No breaks. Can't miss a thing.

He set fairly low expectations for me. He said he'd be happy if I made it through half-time. After that I was free to go back to tailgating or walk a few blocks to the local shops. I thought this was do-able. After all, I'd been to a game at Purdue before and found it entertaining enough. I can people watch and daydream with the best of them.

First quarter zipped along quickly, until I saw lightning. Then the rainfall. I tried to make a quick exit for shelter while SDG remained. No sweat, I'd wait it out and we'd meet back up.

Or not. There was a mass exodus and not enough exits and/or covered areas. I waited, ten steps from my bleacher seat and ten steps from the exit as the fattest raindrops pelted down. The U of M ballcap he bought me came in handy - but I still got drenched.

Because of the lightning, the game was delayed. Of course the football players took shelter, but the poor band - complete with tubas - remained on the field. Hello? Does anyone else see a problem with that?

SDG and I met up as everyone exited the stadium. He apologized a thousand times over. I was so ready to go - soggy and cold - and thought he was ready, too. Wrong! I quickly remembered that he sat through entire games - rain, sleet, snow - and that a silly girl might break his 15 year record. And that his request that I stick it out through half time was currently at risk.

Over time we compromised. The game started up again one hour later. We stayed awhile at the tailgate, watched part of the game on the satellite, and then left. The weekend was packed with time with various friends and family, and that night we had dinner with his oldest, best friends.

We negotiated and, while he was disappointed to leave, and admitted as such, he also said that I was more important than football; but if they had been playing team a, b, or c (he limited it to three, I think), he'd have had to kill me. I appreciated his honesty. The second comment (even with the caveat) also garnered mega points - though I'm sure I'll repay him someday.

Ok, so now that we've jumped this hurdle, this 96-hour trial, perhaps I need to embrace that term ... boyfriend. He's my boyfriend.