Who's the Steelers fan?

After our recent AC upgrade, we discovered that we could receive a rebate from our electric company. A kind of atta-boy pat on the back for fuel efficiency. In order, though, to receive this rebate a representative from the electric company had to come to our house and do an energy inspection. Tom set all of this up because he is the king of rebates. He mentioned the date, but I didn't stick it on the calendar, and so when he called to give me a heads up reminder I thought he was calling to tell me a) he had forgotten his wallet, b) our credit card had been hacked,or c) he needed me to check some part number. Those are usually the reasons he calls me during the day. Other husbands just call to say hey, but my husband doesn't call unless it is one of the above. He also doesn't cut to the chase.

Me: "Yes?"
Him: "Are you home?"
Me: "Not to be a smart ass, but you did call the home phone, so what do you think the answer to that question is?"

Hmmmm....maybe that is why he doesn't call to say, "hey". He told me the inspector was due to arrive around ten, that he had forgotten all about it, that he had planned to be there for the inspection, but had forgotten he was in a class all day. He gave me a few specifics that I was suppose to spout to the inspector, but I promptly forgot most of it. I told him I would do my best to get us a pass, hung up the phone, and BAM the doorbell rang.

The man at the door was at least 6'9 and weighing in at 230. He had a man satchel over his right shoulder, a clipboard in both hands, a box resting on top of the clipboard, and a piece of yellow paper gripped in one hand. The dog, of course, was barking as if an intruder were at the door, and so I opened the door and went outside to talk to the guy.

Me: "Are you here for the dog?"
Him: "What?"
Me: "The dog. I'll give him to you cheap."
Him: "Oh, ha, that's funny. No, I don't need a dog."
Me: "He thinks he's an attack dog, but he wouldn't know how to attack. He'll just sniff you, get bored with you, and go back to his spot on the couch."
Him: "Good to know."

I always feel the need to tell strangers about to enter my house about the dog because I hated it when dogs jumped all over me when I would go to people's houses for swimming lessons. Some dogs sound ferocious  and scare the crap out of people, so I like to give everyone a heads up that my dog is only hoping for a T-R-E-A-T.

I invited him inside, and he stood engulfing my living room, standing awkwardly with his teetering tower of stuff. I suggested he put the stuff down, and he gratefully unloaded it on to my couch. He inquired as to why we had summoned this inspection, and I tried hard to spit out what Tom had told me to say. I managed it well enough, although he had a peculiar look on his face and questioned me on some of it. I fessed up that the husband had just called me and given me the particulars, but that I was a menopausal woman who hadn't planned on this interruption, and therefore, was lucky to have remember the parts I did spout out. He agreed it was good enough and asked if any rooms were off limits. I told him to inspect away, and led him at his inquiry to the entrance to our attic which is in the garage. As we came back into the house, he asked the question that I get from every stranger who enters or knocks on my house.

Him: "Who's the Steelers fan in the house?"

Just five days prior to this guy asking me this, I actually had a lawn guy knock on my door to ask that question because he was from Pittsburgh and just wanted to talk. I went outside (to avoid the barking dog) and we spent twenty minutes talking football. He shook my hand and thanked me before aerating my lawn. I have no idea if he was suppose to aerate my lawn, but he did so after our conversation and didn't leave me a bill.

I told this guy that I was the Steelers fan, expecting him to be a fan too. I might have given a few "Here We Go Steelers, here we go!" chants in answering the question, and he chuckled. I asked him why, and he told me to look at his car. As the kitchen window was directly in front of me as I exited the garage into the house, I peered out...to discover the man had a big Baltimore Ravens license plate on his car. Immediately, I shrieked. Then I texted Tom.

Text: "The inspector is a Ravens fan. We are doomed."

The guy thought that hilarious. He laughed while I groaned. His laugh was booming, and he told me he loved coming into Steelers fans homes.

Him: "I was driving by looking for the house, and I drove by your house with all of the stuff out there. Then I realized I had gone past the number, and when I turned around I just knew it was going to be the Pittsburgh Steelers house I had just passed and made a face at. I do love coming into Steelers houses with my Ravens car."

He told me I was probably the first client to have so much Steelers decorations outside, and I told him he hadn't seen anything yet, and took him into my Steelers room. He didn't want to come in. He kept slapping his knee and groaning while I told him in all seriousness that I had picked and rooted for the Ravens in their two Super Bowl appearances. I told him about my love for Trent Dilfer, and then my sort of feeling nostalgic about Ray Lewis needing a ring, and when he told me, "Alright, then. That's good, that's good," I slapped him on his arm and asked him if that was enough sucking up to him to pass my inspection.

He and I stood for forty five minutes talking football. We analyzed the rules. We discussed quarterbacks. We chatted about various teams. We whined about missing the old days of football. Guys are always surprised by the fact that I have knowledge about football, but once they do I always have great conversations. He finally got around to inspecting my house, and then we sat on the couch and went over it, and then we talked more football. He gave me the box he had carried inside which contained LED bulbs, and then I walked him outside where we talked some more about football. He had a Ravens license plate on the front and the back of his car, and told me the story about a time he had entered a Steelers house with the wife wearing Steelers pajamas, and the husband on his way outside to walk the dog. He and the wife had just started talking when the husband started shouting. His wife freaked out and ran to see what was the matter, and the husband screamed, "He's a Ravens fan!" The wife then started screaming and telling him to get out, get out.

Him: "I just love coming into Steelers fans houses."

We shook hands, and I bid him good-bye.

Him: "It was nice talking with you. You have a good rest of your day."
Me: "It was nice meeting you, and I hope we kick your ass in November!"
Him: "It was nice meeting you too, and I hope we kick your ass."
Me: "In your dreams. Now get out of my driveway with that Ravens car!"