Friday, June 12, 2015

You'd Have to Be a Throner

“Sometimes words can accomplish what swords cannot” – George R. R. Martin, A Game of Thrones

I threw down for an Icee cup a couple of days ago, Game of Thrones-style.

I had just finished up my grocery shopping and decided to stop at my favorite Valero gas station. They have the best Icees (all Icees are not created equal). Even better? All Icees at this particular Valero are only .99, and I planned on getting a large.

I walked in at the same time as another customer, a guy who kindly held the door for me. Seems he was there for the same reason. We were both brought up short by the fact that there was only ONE large Icee cup left. He inquired about more from the clerk behind the counter and she informed him more were on the way that afternoon, but for now, we were left to duke it out over that one sorry large Icee cup.

What to do? What to do? Surely there was a solution here. I looked at him, he looked at me. Neither of us really wanted to be the better person here.  (I get it; it’s just an Icee, and we could have gotten mediums. Not the point.)

“Soooo,” he said.

“I’m closer,” I said.

“Shit, that’s not fair,” he replied. “I can’t hit a girl to take you down.”

“Good point.” I noticed he was wearing a Game of Thrones t-shirt. I’m a fan. I’ve read all the books (a few times), I have the dvds. So I asked him if he was a fan or just liked the t-shirt.

“I’m kind of a super-fan,” he said (I think he actually blushed a little, but it was hard to tell with his little hipster beard). “Why, what’d you have in mind?”

We decided to battle for the Icee cup using house words. The powerful houses in GoT have mottos (“Winter Is Coming”, “Growing Strong”, “Ours Is the Fury”, etc.). So we decided to select house words and explain why the words we chose were the best.

Honor system. Whose honor? Tyrion’s (he may be a Lannister, but he is actually one of the more honorable characters from the show). The clerk behind the counter (also a fan) was our Tyrion.

We flipped a coin to see who began. Hipster man won. I could’ve Milk-of-the-Poppied that smirk right off his face.

“We Do not Sow.” And then he ever so slightly lowered his chin and raised one single eyebrow.

I couldn’t help it. I snickered (I think it was as much for the aspirational “put-me-in-my-place” facial expression as it was for the words he chose).

“What!? Ironborn! We take what we want! Pay the iron price. We don’t ask. We fuckin’ take. Ironborn are strong, certain, and steady. They’re hard. They don’t back down. They are the shit.”

“Fire and Blood, my man,” I said. “She’ll cook your Ironborn where they stand and then take whatever she wants anyway. She rides fucking dragons while you’re buying penny stock in Eunuchs R Us.”

We turned to our “Tyrion” who was laughing her ass off at our pitiful trash-talk. She pointed at me and said, “House Targaryen wins the cup: Fire and Blood.” But because she was so impressed with our little contest, she comped both our Icees.

I did so enjoy filling my large Icee cup. I may have even done so with a bit of a swagger. Man, that was one of the best-tasting Icees I’ve had in a long time.

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