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the one where they flirt via text…

G: Hey you—just circling back around to make sure the QR code for the tickets uploaded for you….

Austin: Hey! YES! Worked perfectly. Looked them up earlier to make sure this wasn’t a scam, ha ha. These seats are INSANE. Are you sure this isn’t a mistake?????

G: Not a mistake—just damn good seats, yeah? You excited?

Austin: Excited? I’m over the moon. Thank you SO SO much. Seriously, you didn’t have to do this—and just so you know, these badass seats are going to ruin my original seats for me. It’s like going from economy to first class—then back to economy.

G: Sorry in advance LOL

Austin: You’re like the hockey version of Santa Claus

G: If Santa didn’t wear red, sure.

Austin: And if Santa wasn’t in such good shape….

G: Ohhhhh…you noticed I was in good shape, eh?

Austin: I wasn’t staring at you if that’s what you mean. Besides, everyone is in better shape than Santa and you seem…active?

G: “Active” LOL

Austin: Oh my God. Stop laughing at me

G: Why? This is fun.

Austin: Fun for YOU, maybe. I’m over here contemplating deleting my number—I called you active and hot and compared you to Santa in the same breath.

G: Wait. You think I’m hot?

Austin: Please don’t do this to me. I’m melting…

G: Fine. I’ll stop. Lame, though, but I’ll be nice.

Austin: Thank you. I can only handle so much embarrassment in one night.

G: You’re welcome. And just so you know, I won’t be forgetting this conversation anytime soon and will probably look back at this text at the Santa part and HOT part.

Austin: I deserve this roasting.

G: Ha ha. Don’t we all deserve to be roasted?? But switching gears back to hockey—who are you going to be cheering for? Don’t tell me it’ll be the goalie.

Austin: Okay, first of all, he shit the bed. Spectacularly. For the past few games. I have secondhand embarrassment for the poor bastard.

G: Bastard? Wow. Tell me how you really feel.

Austin: BUT?—

G: Oh boy, here she goes….

Austin: BUT he’s NOT a terrible goalie. Everyone has bad games. He had an off night. 3 nights in a row, but still. This is not his month.

G: You’re still cheering for him after he fucked the team over?

Austin: Of course! He’s my guy. He needs to get his head back in the game.

G: Interesting. How will you be cheering him on now that you’re sitting SO CLOSE. Signs? Chants? A strongly worded DM?

Austin: Don’t tempt me. I’d slide into his DM if I thought he’d see the message, ha ha. And I’m not above standing at the glass with a big sign that says, “Get it together!”

G: DO IT. I’m sure he could use the motivation.

Austin: Or the humiliation??

G: Sometimes humiliation is the best motivator. Tough love and all that…

Austin: Exactly. Tough love. Coz nothing says “I believe in you” like public shaming.

G: I’m sure he’d appreciate the sentiment.

Austin: You think? Maybe I’ll add stickers and glitter to the sign.

G: Glitter says “GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER but also: I’m fabulous”

Austin: “Stop pucks + Stop killing my dreams.”

G: Wow.

Austin: What? Too much? Or too subtle?

G: Subtle? You told the man to stop killing your dreams.

Austin: Sometimes the truth hurts.

G: If that doesn’t light a fire under his ass NOTHING will.

Austin: Honestly, I’m practically doing the coach’s job at this point.

G: You’re a hero—truly.

Austin: Finally, someone who gets it!!!!

G: Don’t let it go to your head.

Austin: TOO LATE. I’m unbearable now.

G: LOL Will you be cheering for the whole team, then?

Austin: Obviously. I’m not one of those people who only goes to games to watch the fights.

G: Fights do make things interesting, don’t you think?

Austin: Oh, for sure. A good fight is like the cherry on top of a great game. But I’m here for the plays—NOT the punches.

G: Respectable. You’re there for the art of the game.

Austin: Absolutely.

Austin: Are you sure I can’t convince you to join me tomorrow?

G: I’m sure you have someone else you were planning to bring as your plus one, and not the dude you met in a bar.

Austin: I was planning on asking my friend Dolly to come along, but if you change your mind, you have until 10 PM tonight before I turn into a pumpkin. She’s not a superfan like I am, but she doesn’t mind eye-candy.

G: Eye-candy?

Austin: Hockey players tend to be ridiculously good-looking. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.

G: Can’t say I have.

Austin: Have you told your sister you gave her tickets away to some random woman you met at a bar?

G: Yup. She totally approves. And they’re her tickets by proxy…

Austin: I have no idea what that means but I’ll take your word for it. Did she ask you a million questions about me??

G: Of course she did—she’s my sister. Asking a million questions is practically her job.

Austin: And? What did you tell her?

G: The truth.

Austin: Which is…? (this is like pulling teeth, my God)

G: I told her I gave the tickets to a random woman I met at a bar because she seems like a nice person who REALLY loves hockey.

Austin: Oh.

G: LOL why do you sound disappointed???

Austin: I don’t sound disappointed! I’m processing my feelings about that sad, basic description of myself.

G: How is that basic?

Austin: The fact that “nice person who really loves hockey” is apparently my entire personality now.

G: Would you rather I told her you’re a glitter enthusiast who plans on savagely roasting a goalie who sucks at his job?

Austin: You know what? YES DEAR GOD YES. It’s entirely more accurate.

Austin: Also. I’m still stuck on the fact that your sister was cool with this. Mine would’ve interrogated me for hours.

G: Mine tried. I told her not to push her luck.

Austin: Ah, classic. Is she older or younger?

G: Neither. We’re twins

Austin: WHAT?! Twins? That’s awesome. Are you the good one or the evil one?

G: Depends who you ask.

Austin: I’m asking YOU.

G: In that case, yes—I am the good one. My sister is way more diabolical than I am, as most sisters are…

Austin: Oh, come on. What’s the most diabolical thing she’s ever done?

G: Once when we were teenagers, she hid under my bed for an hour while I was reading. And then when I shut off my light, she scared the shit out of me.

Austin: Did you scream?

G: Like a damn banshee.

Austin: So—like a girl?

G: Totally.

Austin: I’m dying. That’s incredible. Did she at least feel bad afterward?

G: Nope. She laughed so hard she fell and hit her head on my nightstand.

Austin: Karma.

G: You’d think so. But then she blamed me for it and got out of trouble.

Austin: I want to be her when I grow up.

G: You’re uninvited from sibling stories now.

Austin: Fair. But for real, thanks again for the ticket—please tell her I appreciate it. I feel like I owe you a favor.

G: You don’t owe me anything. Just enjoy the game.

Austin: That’s too easy. There’s gotta be something I can do to repay you.

G: You already promised to make a glitter sign, remember???

Austin: I’m serious, though.

G: So am I. The glitter sign will be legendary. If I were a player, I’d skate right up to it and kiss the glass to show my appreciation.

Austin: You’d kiss the glass? What if I made a sign that said, “STOP PUCKS + STOP brEAKING MY HEART” or something equally dramatic?

G: If you actually did that, I would find you and kiss you on the lips.

Austin: STOP! I’m blushing. Seriously.

G: If you’re going to go that hard with a sign like that, it deserves a proper thank you.

Austin: Well it’s too bad you won’t be there.