Last weekend had the potential to be a very good weekend. We're not talking midgets on donkeys holding sparklers and parading through my neighborhood good, but when are we really?
The setups were all there:
Friday night, as I mentioned, I had my indoor football team pitted against the biggest bunch of jackasses in our semi-final matchup. We have never beaten them, but we had never beaten the cops (different story, bear with me) until that previous Sunday, so miracles can happen and this would be our moment to shine. And by shine, I mean lose embarrassingly, 12-31.
So Saturday morning, Davidson is playing Georgetown at Georgetown. These games usually bring alumni into town for some good old fashion liver punishing and inappropriate looks from all the stuckup Georgetown fans. This year, I even went so far as to attend the Davidson pre-game brunch. What did I get?
Brunch with four dorks, hearing about how one works with handicapped children (and of course, I can't laugh) and another is moving to Argentina...where the beef is "wonderful," perhaps "fabulous," or even "to die for." And the brunch food was bad to boot. "Should have stayed at a Holiday Inn" my ass.
Then, we get to the game, run out of Beam in the first half, and my buddy Ellis is the only one who gets shitfaced, because he's willing to drink second hand tequila from some old people sitting behind us. But Davidson did win, so it's not all bad.
So Saturday night rolls around, and Ike's engagement party is on the queue. I get home from the Davidson game, clean myself up, put on a nice button up "party" shirt, and some black slacks (trust me this is alot, I work with pools during the week and wear waffle shirts) and we head down to Cafe Matisse. I can now add "valet parking" to my list of things that scare the crap out of me, because as the random guy is driving away in my car, I just felt unsettled. And then I walk up the stairs, and everyone is wearing a sports coat. Thanks for the info., Ike! At least I stole the floral display, which is really brightening up the dining room.
An early departure, and its Sunday morning, and time for our second matchup in Outdoor Football with the other half of my team from last year, who started their own shitty squad. We tied them in our first game, but this time we spanked 'em to the tune of a shutout, and kept our playoff hopes alive. (I don't play offense in the outdoor game, so the puny 8 points we put up is not my fault)
Unfortunately, our hopes dropped very quickly as the aforementioned cops gave an old fashion Rodney King smackdown to the team we were hoping would win in the game immediately following ours. That's like giving a kid a lollipop and then kicking him in the nuts. Well, sort of. Now, we need one of the two worst teams in the league to beat either of those teams next week, along with us beating the best team in the league in order to make the playoffs. Guess I'll be getting my Sunday mornings back real soon.
And then the Redskins game...I won't even discuss it.
Following suit, I'm expecting to get a stomach virus just in time for Thanksgiving...with extra diarrhea, Amy's parents are coming into town.