Dinner before a big game
Merry Christmas and back to work. Technically, I'm a temp here, so that means that compared to the full timers I get less pay, no benefits, no paid sick days, and I have to work normal holidays. I'm filled with anger and hate right now...but not because of being at work. I just made the mistake of going on a Colts message board after a loss and it's filled with Patriot fans being jackasses. I hate Bostonians. As far as I can tell, the area is filled with nothing but drunken, arrogant assholes who only derive pleasure by belittling as many people as they can. Explain to me why Patriot fans should hate the Colts. It makes no sense. They've won. Multiple times. The city of Boston has won tons of sports championships over the years while Indianapolis has never won any. So why would they feel such anger towards the Colts and Colts fans? Because they're a city full of jackasses. That's why. Oh, but Boston is such a wonderful city, people say. I've been there. I saw a bunch of one way streets, Dunkin' Donuts, Ivy League snobs, and drunks who are envious of the Ivy League snobs. Maybe I've gotten the wrong opinion of this city, but until someone manages to prove otherwise, this is the way it is.
F'ing fucking Colts, though. What an embarrassing defense. I wish I could stop caring so much. I actually got to go to the Monday Night game against the Bengals. I was going to go watch the game at a friend's house and that sounded like a lot of fun, but then my brother-in-law called at the last minute and said he had an extra ticket for me at will call. So I hopped in my car and headed downtown. When I arrived at the Dome a crowd of people were headed to the gates, but I still had about 45 minutes until gametime, and I wanted to get a couple affordable drinks in me before kickoff. I fought against the flow of the crowd looking for a bar. Once I got past the major crush, I saw something that was very special in my eyes. In fact, I've told people about what I saw since this moment occured, and I get the feeling that they don't believe me. But they should. People should understand that I have been blessed with the gift of witnessing amazing events, and that my purpose here on Earth is to share these moments with all of you. Now I'm not sure where this moment ranks compared to the time Erik Estrada asked me to get him a bucket of lemon slushie that had falled onto the pavement or the time I personally made the entire Hollywood Bowl sit down or the time when I saw Erik Estrada knock over a table of video games at Toys R Us...but it's up there. This night before the start of the Colts/Bengals game while the crowd was walking to the Dome, I passed under a bridge in downtown Indianapolis and saw...a man...a little chubby but full of energy...definitely drunk...skipping...wearing a #88 Marvin Harrison jersey...shouting, "Let's go fucking Colts! Mother fucking Colts!!" And as he skipped past me I realized that it was Jared from Subway. He seemed like a pretty fun guy. Honestly though, is anyone's life going better for them than Jared Fogle? That used-to-be-obese-but-is-now-just-a-little-fat fuck has the life. He makes millions of dollars doing commercials while holding up a sail-sized pair of pants, giving talks while holding up his sail-sized pair of pants to people who will never lose as much weight as he did no matter how much or little Subway they cram down their throats, and he gets free sandwiches for life! Free f'ing fucking sandwiches! I'd be skipping, too.
I found a bar, finally got the skank behind the bar to give me a drink after waving at her for fifteen minutes, and headed back to the Dome. My seat was way in the corner of the stadium. Waaaaay up there. You could only go one row higher than my seat. The good news was that the giant pillar in front of me only blocked the left endzone, but if I leaned to my right I could see, yet I risked propelling myself into the fans below. My brother-in-law was already in the seats with my nephews also there in football pads eating nachos. I had completely forgotten. They were on a junior all-star team that was playing the NFL mascots at halftime. That's how we got the tickets. And that's why there was a pillar in the way. I was sitting next to my nephew Race and one of his teammates was sitting next to him. They were buzzing with excitement. Perhaps they were a little too excited.
Some dude recording artist that I have never heard of was doing an average job with the national anthem, when I heard someone's drink spilling near me. I instinctively stepped away from the noise without looking. I noticed that this must be one helluva huge drink that this person was having major trouble corralling because it just kept gushing and gushing. I looked over to my left and there was Race's friend doubled over puking...everywhere! All over himself, all over his dad, all over the ground, all over our row, all over the row in front of us...it was a never ending geyser of vomit! Finally, the torrent subsided and his dad walked him downstairs, but that left us up in the stands surrounded by puke. The smell was less than pleasant. The stadium staff at the RCA Dome has learned something. They know that if some kid pukes in the nose bleeds, they don't have to do anything about it. They don't need to mop it up or water it down. Our seats have already been paid for, and they were the cheap seats at that. So, we did what we could with a couple cups of water and a roll of paper towels. I wiped enough vomit off one section of the row to sit down and fought my gag reflex for the entire game. All in all, I had a great time. Apparently, as long as I'm at a Colts game I'm happy, even if this means sitting in a pool of vomit in the nose bleeds behind a giant pillar.