football + a-holes + drunks + lightning = ?

Equals not a happy Amy.

Last Saturday, I accompanied a friend to the USC-Syracuse game at MetLife Stadium (in the dirty Jerz).  I’m going to say it here that I am not a USC fan.  I have A LOT of friends who went to UCLA, so their influence has rubbed off a bit in my distaste for USC.  I’m pretty indifferent towards Syracuse (though I was accepted there way back in the days of college applications, so it ranks higher on my list of schools to root for).  I went to the game because it’s college football and I like college football.  I purposely wore a teal shirt, so as to not show alliance to either team by wearing their colors.

If you were on the East Coast last Saturday then you know that weather conditions were less than ideal.  Despite the gloomy forecast, we decided to go anyway.  Perhaps, I should have stayed home.  Quite a few times my patience was tested and we all know that my anger towards assholey people isn’t well contained.

We made our way out via public transit (with all the rest of the drunk and degenerate fans).  The train out to Secaucus Junction was super packed with all of the football fans and I happened to come across an empty two seater right by the door.  You know, the two seater that faces a three seater?  Well, one of the obnoxious girls in the three seater has her fucking feet up on the seat, like she’s kicking back at home.  It’s a crowded train and people would like to sit down and not only that, but sit in a seat that isn’t dirty from your fucking shoes being on it.  I turn to the girls and ask if they are saving the seat.  Loungy girlfriend looks at me like I’m her worst enemy (oh, she has NO idea) and puts her feet on the floor where they fucking belong.  We sit and I manage to contain my snarky comments about these three twits until we are outta earshot (aren’t I so very considerate?).

After the hassle of taking a shuttle bus to the stadium, instead of the usual train, first thing on the agenda is to get some soothing beer into our systems.  Guess how much a freaking domestic light beer cost?  $9.50!  That shit better have a diamond at the bottom of that bottle, cause jeezus, that’s a lot for slightly beer flavored water!

We finally maneuver our way to our row of seats and find there is one dude sitting in one of our seats (the other was empty).  So I tell the guy “hey, we have this seat”.  He gives me dead eyes and says “Who sits in their own seats?  There’s no assigned seating.”  Oh, really, Butt Munch?  This ticket I’m holding indicates otherwise.  And if that’s the case then why are you sitting here in the end zone, when you could be on the 50-yard line???  So, we sit down in the two empty seats (one belonging to us, the other not) and I tell him point blank that “if someone kicks us out of these seats, you’re moving.”  He just rolled his assbag eyes at me and I shot him dirty looks for the first half.

It was amusing (cause they weren’t really bothering us) to watch the drunky drunk girls everywhere, stumbling around, weeble-wobbling.  And holy hell, some of them looked like they were going to da club, instead of a football game.  What the hell was with the tight dresses, whore makeup, jewelry, and heels????  This girl directly in front of me had that rubbery band that is sewn into the shoulders of tops to aid in hanging, sticking out of her shirt (on left side).  I so wished I had a pair of scissors to just snip it off.  Don’t think I didn’t notice the bra strap or ‘ombre’ hair.

It wasn’t until halftime when I dropped $20 on chicken tenders, fries and another beer, that the sky started to get really dark.  Right before the start of the second half, the officials postponed the game, due to lightening and cleared everyone out of their seats to take cover.  It was at this time that my friend and I decided to call it a day.  We managed to make it onto one of the shuttle buses right before it started to torrentially downpour.

 

The trip home was uneventful, unstressful, and no one annoyed me…Yay!

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2 Comments

  1. “It was amusing (cause they weren’t really bothering us) to watch the drunky drunk girls everywhere, stumbling around, weeble-wobbling. And holy hell, some of them looked like they were going to da club, instead of a football game. What the hell was with the tight dresses, whore makeup, jewelry, and heels???? ”
    BWAHAHAHAHAHH….what is UP with the whole bra strap thing…ughh..it’s like nails down a chalkboard for me…I simply can NOT reach far enough into my trashy expose-your-unmentionables-inner-Britney Spears to feel at all “ok” with convincining myself people are going to think it’s just part of the outfit?!! errr..whatever they tell themselves!
    I’d so have loved to be @ this game with you…we woulda had a riot with the crowd commentary alone!!

    • We would have sooooooo much fun watching a game together.

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