Chapter 15: Allie - Blackout

Saturday, November 25, 2017
Baton Rouge, Louisiana, USA

I could smell the bourbon as we walked beside the parking lots packed with tailgaters towards LSU’s Tiger Stadium. The group of Alphas dressed in their matching Texas A&M gear strode confidently through the sea of purple and gold created by the LSU fans tailgating on either side of the walkway.

Thanksgiving had been ok. Garrison was a lot more tolerable around his family without the bad influence of his Alpha buddies. We’d flown down from Nashville to Dallas on Tuesday and stayed at his parents’ sprawling ranch property an hour south of the city. Garrison’s parents were old Dallas money. Obsessed with propriety and appearances. I disliked them, but I had always known how to put on a face and play a role.

The silver lining was that part of the ‘propriety’ Garrison’s parents demanded included treating ladies ‘right’. So Garrison put on a show for them, so he was actually somewhat attentive and polite instead of the domineering jerk he tended to be after spending too much time with his Alpha buddies.

Unfortunately, part of keeping up appearances meant I had to go with Garrison to see Texas A&M football’s visit to Baton Rouge. He was flying directly home to Nashville from nearby New Orleans on Sunday. A good wife wouldn’t fly home separately from her husband.

We got a mid-morning flight from DFW, and Tanner, my friend Lauren’s husband, met us at the airport in Baton Rouge in the early afternoon. Apparently a cohort of Alphas had made the long drive down from Nashville because I recognized Tanner’s ridiculous souped-up truck. I knew Lauren had been working over Thanksgiving so her family had flown in to see her. Tanner obviously saw no issue with leaving them to go practice his religion: A&M football.

Garrison and Tanner performed their ritual bro hug and immediately dove into a discussion of what bowl game A&M might make if they could pull off the upset tonight. With a sigh I hefted my heavy suitcase into the back of Tanner’s truck and got in the back seat of the extended cab. Both men opened light beers as they continued their animated discussion and Tanner pulled away from the airport terminal. I wondered if being a DD would be part of my job duties that night. I resolved to moderate my drinking - I didn’t want to die because one of my husband’s idiot friends was driving drunk.

The tailgate was well underway by the time we arrived. While tailgating was a big deal at Alabama, where I’d gone to college, there was a sort of semi-organized outdoor cocktail party pageantry to it. I noticed how the groups of fans all seemed loosely associated - it seemed like everyone knew everyone in a way.

Of course, that was not the Alpha MO. Tanner pulled into his designated spot following the hand signals of a younger Alpha I only vaguely recognized. Tanner’s truck completed a semi-circle of six of the ubiquitous large pickups, arranged in a formation that ignored the painted lines of the parking spaces. In the spaces across the parking aisle from the open side of the semi-circle were a half dozen nondescript vehicles. I guessed these were cars that Alphas who had flown into Baton Rouge had rented. To really discourage foot traffic through the area, low walls of sandbags had been set up blocking both ends of the aisle. It created a semi-private courtyard within the hubbub of the tailgate.

There were perhaps 40 Alphas already assembled. Garrison was immediately subjected to mockery for his ‘late’ arrival, and demands he catch up on the drinking as soon as we got out of the truck. I desperately scanned the crowd for a friendly face. There were about a dozen wives, but none I recognized as friends.

I saw someone wave and my new friend Taylor popped out from behind a group of Alphas. I breathed a sigh of relief. Taylor bounded over and hugged me.

“Thank goodness for a friendly face,” she said.

“I feel the same way,” I said.

“Ma’am, welcome to Operation BRP,” a younger Alpha I didn’t recognize said. He handed me a glass bottle. I looked at the label: Boone’s Farm Blue Hawaiian. I wrinkled my nose in disgust.

“Come on, I knew they wouldn’t have anything good to drink. I have a secret stash,” Taylor said.

“You’re a godsend,” I said and followed her towards a dark green SUV.

“What’s Operation BRP?” I asked.

“Baton Rouge Pounding,” Taylor explained.

“Wow, creative.”

Taylor laughed as she opened the back door of the SUV and pulled out an insulated cooler.

“Marg or wine?” she offered.

“I think I need a marg to deal with this,” I said.

“Good call.” Taylor pulled out a travel mug and poured from a large thermos. I had noticed she was drinking from a travel mug of her own.

“Cheers,” I said and we clinked our mugs together.

“You said your parents are in New Orleans right?” I asked, recalling the discussion from last Saturday night when we’d been discussing holiday plans over dinner at Lauren’s house.

“Yep, they’ve got Kacie for the night. I’ve always liked coming to LSU games, so much energy,” Taylor said, referring to her four-year-old daughter.

“Oh, so rooting for the enemy then?” I asked.

“Don’t tell them, I’ll probably be drawn and quartered,” Taylor said.

“Your secret’s safe with me,” I laughed.

“You went to Alabama, right?” Taylor asked.

“Yep, Iron Bowl today,” I said. I wasn’t a huge football fan, but it was kind of hard not to be at least a little bit of one at Alabama. I’d also been in school when the current run of dominance had begun. I followed enough to know what was going on.

“Let’s get them to put that on the TV for us. We can claim we’re watching that and they won’t bug us too much,” Taylor suggested.

“Smart.” One of the few things the Alphas would respect was watching your school’s football team.

We commandeered a couple of camp chairs and actually managed to have a reasonably pleasant afternoon. Alabama ended up losing to Auburn, which I was moderately disappointed by, but I really enjoyed hanging out with Taylor. Her hilarious irreverence confirmed the first impression she’d made on me the prior Saturday.

The sun was fully down by the time the Iron Bowl ended, and movement towards the stadium was beginning. The reason, aside from fashion, why the Alphas wore cargo pants to the game became obvious as they began filling their pockets with black plastic flasks.

Taylor and I followed in the wake of the Alphas, not especially wanting to be associated with them. I’d intentionally dressed in green so it was obvious I was a neutral.

Inevitably a large group of A&M fans got some good-natured ribbing from LSU fans as we passed. To my surprise none of the Alphas responded, but a quartet of the younger wives were responding. Their shit talk wasn’t good-natured though. It was all focused on how the LSU fans were weak, soft, poor and low class. Basically the opposite of everything the Alphas believed themselves to be.

“Who’s the public relations crew here?” I asked Taylor.

“Paige, Ashlynn, Sutton, and Sloane. They’re very bought into the Alpha philosophy. I was talking to them before you got here.”

“Gross,” I said. I was aware that there was a group of wives that were completely on board with the whole Alpha philosophy, but this was my first time seeing them in action in a setting like this.

Once we got inside the stadium Taylor and I peeled away while the main group went to buy sodas to mix with the contents of their flasks.

“I don’t really feel like sitting with them, do you?” Taylor asked.

“Hell no, let’s go find somewhere fun,” I said.

“I used to sneak into the student section all the time when I was younger. Big time energy,” Taylor said. I nodded at her plan.

We found a good spot adjacent to the student section with a couple of empty seats and had a great time. I hadn’t been to a big-time SEC night game since I was at Alabama and the atmosphere was a fun reminder of the kind of energy a truly pumped up, drunk SEC crowd brought. The Tigers delivered too, running out to a 20-0 lead by the second quarter.

Between Garrison’s obsession, and the fact that I considered A&M obnoxious Johnny-come-latelies to the SEC, I despised the Aggies. Hate watching them with tens of thousands of screaming LSU fans was tremendous fun.

A&M did mount a bit of a comeback, which was actually sort of good because it kept the intensity up, but LSU responded and put the game away with two more touchdowns. We had as much fun during the fourth quarter watching the antics in the stands and on the sidelines as we did the football.

The game had just ended and we were about to leave when the LSU band started up a new song.

“Oh shit, they haven’t played this in years, I can’t believe they’re doing this. This should be good!” Taylor said.

It didn’t seem all that notable to me until a certain lyric hit. The entire student section, along with Taylor, sang “SUCK THAT TIGER DICK, BITCH.”

I laughed. This was fun! I joined in at full voice the next time around.

“That’s going to make them so mad,” I said, laughing, as we finally made our way out of the stadium.

“They’re going to be in such a shitty mood. Ugh, last thing I feel like is dealing with pissy Merritt tonight,” Taylor whined.

“Yeah, let’s not talk about it. Ruins the mood,” I suggested.

So we didn’t. For the twenty minute walk back to the tailgate area we enjoyed ourselves, talked about whatever and absorbed the festive atmosphere.

“Ok time to act sad and serious, what’s our story?” Taylor asked.

“Usually when Garrison gets suspicious of me while he’s drunk I just go with the most absurd thing imaginable and it confuses him,” I said.

Taylor laughed. “I like it.”

Garrison and Merritt noticed us when we re-entered the little encampment, which the Alphas were now in the process of disassembling. Between their bad mood and high level of inebriation it was moving slowly.