When you think of great partners in history, the following names come to mind: Abbott and Costello, Bonnie and Clyde, Tom and Jerry, Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis, etc... Now when you think of great wingmen, the following names come to mind: Maverick and Goose (Top Gun), Johnny Drama and Turtle (Entourage), Vince Vaughn and John Favreau (Swingers), etc... Forgive me if I have overlooked anyone.

With all the great duos out there, you would think it to be hard to break into this category and become one of the greatest wingmen to ever live. But I must admit that yours truly has done it again, and defied all naysayers - I have added myself to the list of all-time great wingmen.

The day started out with us having an early breakfast which included Bloody Marys, a seafood omelet, eggs Benedict, and eggs scrambled. We were filling up our bellies for the day's activities, which included tailgating and college football. Basically, we were heading downtown to celebrate college football and our love of drinking.

The group consisted of myself, Bert, Macavelli, and Otis O'Flannigan. We had tickets to the Pitt football game but we were one ticket short - Macavelli had made a surprise appearance from New York, so we were in need of another Pitt ticket. Personally, I wasn't concerned about the game because I knew there would be plenty of free beer to occupy my time if I were denied access. Tailgating is one of the few situations in which it is OK to get lost. Like a crying child wandering the mall, you'll be nursed by some generous soul with free beer and helped to find your mommy, or group, once again. However, I do not suggest crying into a set of breasts at this age, especially if they belong to a stranger with a big boyfriend.

We made it to the game but were unsuccessful at obtaining another ticket. Sure, there were plenty of scalpers with extra tickets, but none of them had the kind of ticket we needed, a free one. I told Bert our effort was futile because scalpers would rather see the tickets go to waste than see me have a good time at their expense. I told Bert to hand me the tickets and I walked towards the first group of scalpers. If anything, we could sell our two tickets for beer money for the bar.

"How much will you give me for these two tickets?"

"I'll give you ten bucks," said an African-American gentleman who stood with a large lump of money in his hand. For a moment I thought of pulling the old "Cops!" to distract him long enough for me to snatch the wad and make for the nearest watering hole, but he was skinnier than me and I was in the process of working off the previous night's booze. I didn't think I would make the nearest port-o-johns, let alone the nearest bar, so I decided to reason with the man.