Always taking a backseat

I spent the first half of a basketball game last night watching the action, taking notes and watching over my shoulder to see when I was going to get in trouble.

I always get this way when I’m doing something “against the rules,” no matter how trivial the offense. Last night, I was a credentialed media member who just happened to be sitting in someone else’s seat. I haven’t had a seat all year at games, but when you cover Ivy League basketball there almost always just happens to be unoccupied seats on press row. (Who knew?)

Last night, though, was Penn-Princeton, the big rivalry, and although the attendance was down for the fans, it seemed to be up for media members. I simply could have gone to one of the media overflow seats upstairs, where there were open seats, and sat there. But I was at the Palestra an hour early, there was nobody else there, and what were the chances the Washington Post guy was going to show up?

Now that I was sitting in his seat, about one to one, and when he showed up, and I ended up in someone else’s seat and the rest of the evening continued on without interruption, even though I was certain I was headed for instant doom.

This isn’t the first time it’s happened, though. When I’m not in my ticketed seat for a concert or baseball game, I spent the entire time worried I’m going to get caught. Never mind that the penalty for being in the wrong seat is moving to another seat (pretty much) and that last night I only think about three media members were in their correct seats, I am always nervous.

It’s not just seats, of course, that’s just the closest and easiest example. But whenever I do something “against the rules” — not necessarily breaking laws, but little things: entering a ‘DO NOT ENTER’ door or not checking your bag when a sign says you should. I know that my transgressions are not major, or even worth worrying about at all, but I figure I’m entering into someone’s house or store or gym and I might as well follow the rules.

It’s not that I never break the rules, never get caught, and can’t deal with trouble, though growing up I was pretty much a goody-two-shoes — so that’s probably part of it. I guess I don’t want to be embarrassed, don’t want to be told no, but it’s not really worth me worrying so much about it. And it’s not that I get really upset. I guess I’m just paranoid someone’s out there watching me, ready to yell at me if I sit in the wrong seat.

Last night, though, was okay. Players made baskets, fans roared in the stands and I tapped tapped away on my laptop without any real worry. And now, on the same laptop now, in the office at my actual job, I can sit back, as I’m in the cubicle with all my stuff in it and nobody can tell me to move.

Hey, who’s that behind me…

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