True Story
In 2001, Julie and I took the girls to their first Virginia Tech game.
It had been awhile since visiting Blacksburg and I was excited for them to experience the gameday atmosphere.
As we wrapped up tailgating, Grace and I made a quick pit stop. The closest porta-potty had quite a line. About midway through our wait, I put Grace on my shoulders, which turned out to be a great seat for what unfolded next.
Ahead was a young couple clearly infatuated with each other and drunk. When the door opened for the next person to enter, they embraced in a horribly sloppy kiss, and the guy handed his beer to his girlfriend and entered the stall (so much for chivalry).
The young women turned around to the line and announced “we’re not married, I’m just his beer b*tch!” To which someone in the back immediately replied “are you from West Virginia?”
Enraged, the girl slammed both beers to the ground and shouted “as a matter of fact I am!” and ran to the back of the line and threw a punch at the guy.
As the folks in the back of the crowd broke up the altercation, her boyfriend emerged from the stall. Confused that his girlfriend wasn’t where he left her, he looked up and asked simply:
“where’s my beer?”
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