We play a fucklot of trivia.

Our most frequent trivia outings happen at places that feature Geeks Who Drink pub quizzes where we usually acquit ourselves well and finish in the top 3 teams which merits house cash as a prize. It’s two of our favorite things – nerdery and alcohol. We’re going to Austin again this year to participate in Geek Bowl, the largest pub quiz in America.

We take trivia in all forms, and recently, we found ourselves having a quiet evening at Buffalo Wild Wings when we decided to grab a couple of trivia boxes and amuse ourselves with a little light quiz. And then I compared my wife to Arn Anderson.

It was just the two of us playing to start. We hadn’t played NTN in a while, and since we’re dialing back our drinking a bit, we thought this would be a good way to divert focus. And it was. We did reasonably well , both finishing most rounds in the top 100 in the country, but not really competing.

We’re both incredibly competitive people, but when it comes to each other, we shut it down. I realize there are couples who are competitive with each other, and that’s fine if that’s what works for them, but I can’t relate. I hate seeing my wife disappointed, and I suspect she feels the same way about me, so if we’re ever going head to head, we both let off the gas and just enjoy the game, whatever it is. We had a delightful time.

It wasn’t until others in the bar joined in the game that we both got fired up. During one particular round we fell behind early, but I nailed a few questions in a row and re-took the lead. Kristin followed suit and held a strong second. As I looked at the standings, I said, “You’re right behind me. If you get a couple of these, you’ll overtake first.”

She said, “As long as no one passes you, I’m happy.”

I was moved by her sentiment. So moved, in fact, I responded thusly, “Wow, we’re like the 4 Horsemen, and you’re like Arn Anderson.”

Kristin stared back at me either confused or annoyed or both.

“I don’t need to finish explaining this, do I? Shall we just move on?”

“Please,” she said.

I was going to say that she’s the enforcer protecting the champ (Arn Anderson’s role in the pro wrestling stable The 4 Horsemen from the NWA in the 1980s), and that I’m incredibly flattered she thinks of me as Ric Flair, the champ and leader of the group, at least in terms of trivia.

And I am. I just need to figure out how to say that to her without comparing it to professional wrestling.

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