Here's your wrap-up:
Me in my seats after 31 seconds: You know what, maybe I will let you buy me that beer.
Me in my seats after 5 minutes: Wanna get another beer?
Me in my seats after 19 minutes: Let's get beers.
Me on the concourse during the first intermission: "I don't know if Hitchcock has used his screaming intermission speech yet, but now would be a good time for it. If the leaders in that room don't trash the place, then they should be traded. Every single one of those guys should be personally and professionally embarrassed because I'm embarrassed and I had nothing to do with the play on the ice. That was the worst period of hockey I've ever sat through in this building since the Brett Hull Night game, and they were supposed to be terrible back then. I swear to whatever you all hold holy, if they play like that in period two they should fold up the whole thing and sell it to whatever carnival happens to be passing through town, hoping like hell that they happen to be short on clowns at this particular moment.
"And yes, I will take another beer."
Me in my seats 20 seconds into the the second period: YES! That's one, bitches! That's what we do!
Me in my seats 91 second into the second period: You going for beers?
Me during intermission: Sure, yes, sure. I remember 1998. Yes, of course, sure sure. Did you say you were going for another beer?
Me during the third period: You see how we're out-shooting them and out-hitting them? Blah. Beer?
Me answering my text messages after the game: Talk to me after Game 3. The Blues haven't played a good game yet. If they win Game 3, everything changes. If not, at least I have all these beers.