Every former football player has that nightmare, that day his sister brings home some other football player, calling him “boyfriend.” I’m not saying all football players are bad, I mean I’m not such a bad guy. But we’ve all had that moment on Mondays where we sit around the locker room or lounge trading stories from the weekend. These are stories my mother would be ashamed of. Bottom line, no guy wants his sister being one of these stories.
Well, yesterday I had my own little slice of hell as my sister and her four friends from college were all in town. My sister’s friends all hail from the D.C. Area and one of them had the latest issue of the Washingtonian.
The friends talked and noted that the article was excellent, Chris seemed like a great guy and even better football player. Then one of the friend’s asked, “Robbie—don’t you know this guy.” I admitted that “Yes” I did in fact know Chris (in that Match.com-Internet stalking-kind of way).
One of the friends strolled by mid conversation, peeked over our shoulders (as we were now all huddled around said magazine) and promptly dropped a one liner for the ages:
“Hummmmm I wouldn’t mind waking up next to him”
File that one under “kill-me-now moments.”