Last week was particularly exciting because my dear friend J was in town. We went to law school together and took to each other instantly, even before classes began. She really gets my dirty disgusting raunchy sense of humor, and she never judges me no matter what stupid shit I get myself into. We took full advantage of her limited time in LA. It was awesome.
Near the end of her visit we were having drinks at a hotel bar with one of her co-workers, L, who mentioned that she'd met someone from Nova Scotia that day and asked if he was born in the same hospital as Sidney Crosby. My heart skipped a beat. "Are you a hockey fan?" I asked, full of trepidation and anticipation. What if she said no? What if, worse, she said yes but likes the Ducks?!
She eyed me. "I'm a Kings fan," she said.
I'm pretty sure that, at that moment, beaming sunlight of happiness poured from my every orifice.
"Oh my god. L. I am so excited," I said, trying vainly to contain myself. Almost instantly I gave up. "I knew I liked you for a reason. Now I know that I love you." J could tell that I was wildly excited and excused herself to use the restroom while L and I covered all of the bases.
We ran down all of our favorite players. Then our least favorite players. Then we bagged on Penner for a few minutes. Then we talked about the best and worst moments from the last season. Then we talked about the coming season. Then we agreed that our significant others are ridiculous for being Red Wings fans (she understands my pain)! I was already a little giddy from the champagne but after that, I was positively beside myself with excitement.
We said our goodbyes (they had to drive back to San Diego that night), and then I am pretty sure I drove home at like 90 miles per hour and burst in the house yelling "I found another Kings fan! I found another Kings fan!" I felt like I could have run a marathon.
J and L saw proof positive that all anyone needs to do is mention the word "hockey" or "Kings" to me and I will freaking love them forever. This is especially true of female hockey fans, because I feel like we need to band together and, I dunno, demand better jersey choices or talk about why our guys like the wrong teams or something.
Which brings me to my big question of the day, which is this: if L and I were both guys, we would have experienced what I assume is a classic bromance. I experienced the same thing during the playoffs with the hot girl that we sat next to for Game 4 (hot girl, if you're reading this, email me.) So what is the proper term for a female bromance? A boobmance? A vagmance? A non-sexual version of the L Word? (See what I did with the title of this blog? Because her name starts with L? Yeah. Clever.) My girlfriend thinks that it is simply "friendship." I like that.