Caught

Here's a good story from my weekend at Davis Cup. The interesting thing about watching tennis is that you can't get up and wander around at concessions and bathrooms at will. One has to wait until after odd numbered games or in between sets or matches. Therefore, the time in between matches can create unbelievably long lines for the bathroom. Our line wove through a good part of the concourse and by a concession stand. And you know women - we have the longest line and we always start talking.

A couple women behind me (who were about my mom's age) started talking about the good looks of several of the tennis players. Then they decided that entire Spanish contingent was really hot. I decided to chime in at that point. "Especially Feliciano Lopez," I added. "I haven't minded watching him play at all!"

Then from behind me I heard a voice, "Talking about the hot Spanish players again?" I turned to see Hubby holding popcorn, and then rolled my eyes.

"What makes you think that?"

"You had a particular grin on your face." I rolled my eyes again and let my fellow waiters know that this man was Hubby. Hubby laughed.

"I swear I didn't start the conversation. I just joined in." And throughout the afternoon, anytime I took the binoculars during Lopez's match, Hubby started laughing again. You'd think a women's bathroom line would be a safe place to talk.