Confession

There are only other three people in the world that know what I’m about to tell you. Like Lyme disease gone dormant, I’ve been carrying around this deep, dark secret for almost fifteen years that still shames me to this day. Although I try not to think about it, the truth comes knocking more often than not.

We men are easy creatures; drawn to whatever our stomach or eyes are willing to feast. In this case, it was the latter…a babe named Jess. She was foxy and funny and feisty, looked great in jeans and on top of that, she was really into me. You can imagine my excitement when she wanted to come over and watch the Packers in the Super Bowl in 1997.

I orchestrated an incredible setup in my parent’s basement that day I tell you. There were chips and dip and a cooler next to the couch; there was even stool to put up our feet and slouch. Things seemed perfect and she arrived just in time to snuggle, yes snuggle, and watch the great Luther Vandross sing the national anthem.

To recap: The Packers were in the Super Bowl, a hot chick had her hand on my leg, and a three-gallon bowl of Cool Ranch Doritos was within arm’s length…life was good I tell you! And it quickly got even better, or so I thought at the time.

“Wanna make out?” she asked as New England kicked off.

“What? Seriously?” I came back with.

“Would you rather watch the game?”

“I mean… Seriously? It’s the Super Bowl. It’s the Packers. First time in thirty years.”

“Didn’t you say they had a dynasty and they’ll win at least three Super Bowls with Favre?” she asked.

“Well yeah, but…”

“It’s OK, we can watch the game.”

And it’s at that point I made the call to fulfill her request. We then began what will go down as my number #2 epic makeout session of all time with an asterisk. And let me tell you, it was five times better than anything previous or since but I cannot ever put it at #1 because while we were visiting Smoochtown, the Packers were on their way to winning a Super Bowl – the only one of its kind of my lifetime. By the time one of us had to go to the bathroom, the confetti was swarming down on Favre, Reggie and the bunch. I was in complete shock and awe.

Yes, I had my reasons for what I’ve done, as men always do, and as much as I would go back and change the past, this is my journey and I accept that. I’ve come a long way since then and I know it won’t happen again. Jess is married with children now, anyhow, and living in Minnesota last I heard.

Thanks for letting me vent, Internets/readers.