After teaching high school students for the past 29 years, I thought I had heard, seen or read every variation concerning the human need for sexual intimacy. Imagine my surprise in learning that going to a Buffalo Bills game not only will increase my football knowledge and help me to enjoy the camaraderie of other sports enthusiasts, but will also acquaint me with the newest in sexual expressions.
With the arrest of two patrons for having sex in the stands, I am getting another dose of reality in a way I thought was nearly impossible.
It's funny that I have been on numerous vacations without my mate and yet, upon my return, I didn't desire taking vulgar matrimonial liberties with him in a public forum. Perhaps this can be conveyed into two lines of thought. One may be that my love for my husband is not as all-encompassing as I thought.
Sure, I love my husband and he loves me. But have we grown past the need to prove just how high is the mountain we will climb? How deep is the river we will swim for each other's touch? Would removing our clothing in full view of unsuspecting sports fans help us to re-enter a higher plane of intimacy? No, that theory holds little value for me.
The other pathway brings me to a more realistic setting. I can go to a Bills game and enjoy all the exuberance that comes out from the minute I enter the parking area until the last play of the game has occurred. I can catch my husband's eye while everyone engages in conversation, direct a sly wink his way and leave the rest to his imagination until we get home.
I can even hold his hand as we go to visit our friends parked in other sections. Many times our walks are interspersed in joyful laughter, high-speed conversation and loving handholds.
I also consider myself free-spirited. And everyone who meets me knows that I love my mate. But our method of showing it does not cause others any embarrassment or require any explanation.