HEISGIRL: Fodder From a Female Football Fan

Living every week like it's Shark Week.

Monday, December 04, 2006

Without Sports, This Wouldn't Be Disgusting

Well. Well. Well.

It was another one of thooooose weekends. FTP was in town, Sally had a
party, USC lost, and I went into liver failure.

I'm going to skip over Friday nite, because that could be an entirely
different post in and of itself, and focus on Saturday. After a busy morning
in the president's home and at the oldest restaurant in the city, FTP and I
met Super Fan at Bottom Line to watch the bball game and the afternoon's
string of football. We walk in and Super fan plops down at a row of stools.
What he has yet to notice is that the guy sitting next to us is in an Adrian
Peterson jersey, wearing an OU knit cap, and has an OU coozie on his beer.

Now if we had any sense, we would have gotten up and moved to the otherside
of the bar. When we told him we were all longhorns, he was just as disgusted
with us as we were with him. He hated Texas just as much as I hate OU, which
to me just doesn't seem possible...what's there to hate about Texas?

Sooner fan was not your average ignorant trailer-park living Oklahomian. He
was a mildly-amusing heckler, and for the next 4 hours that we were at the
bar, he and I just went back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. He
went to the bathroom and took his coozied beer with him because he was
afraid of what we'd do to it...he did leave behind his phone and we took a
picture of Super Fan's shirt and left it for him. He in turn grabbed me on
more than one occasion and tried to force his sooner cap on me (while I
screamed "NO IT BURNS MY SKIN!!!"). He was surprisingly knowledgeable about
things other than auto repair and squirrel hunting (and by that I mean
knowledgeable about football and that's about it). He really loved seeing us
get the sh*t beat out of us by Gonzaga. He was probably the most likeable
asshole I've ever met.

Bottom Line closed at 7 for a private party, and Sooner fan invited us to
go with him to an all-you-can drink party down the street at another bar to
watch the Big 12 game. He was as appalled by the fact that he'd be watch the
OU game with a bunch of longhorns as we were to be watching it with him. But
we followed him nonetheless, and because he seems to know EVERYONE, Super
Fan of course knew the owner of the bar we landed at. The party didn't start
for another hour, but they hooked us up anyway.

So already having been drinking Miller Light for 4 hours, we continued on.
Sally texted me asking what we were doing for dinner, and I responded that
we were drinking it. As the Miller Light continued to flow, Sooner fan and I
start getting a little more friendly. And a little more friendly. And still
more. It was like Romeo and Juliet. (did I mention he was a personal
trainer...his rock hard abs starts to make it better, right?) During this
whole period I'm texting with my friends back in Austin and they're telling
me "Don't go there!" "You'll hate yourself!" and (my favorite) "You will
NEVER live this down."

Regardless, I'm 100 sheets to the wind, and the internal debate is raging.
I've said on about 300 occasions that I would NEVER date a Sooner. If I met
Mr. Right and he said "Boomer Sooner" that I'd turn around and never look
back. But we're not talking about dating here, right? It's also funny to me
that I had no moral dilemma about going home with him, just a sports
psychology dilemma. What karmic effect would this have on the universe? How
would this effect Colt's recovery time? Could this cost us the Gator Bowl?
And seriously, can I handle not ever being able to live this down?

Some of you are asking "WHY ARE YOUR FRIENDS LETTING YOU THINK ABOUT GOING
HOME WITH A SOONER!?" FTP was already at home having fallen asleep at the
bar while I told her repeatedly to "just wait til the Rutgers game is over
and I'll go with you" (though I'm sure it was not as coherent as that).
Super Fan was all for it because he couldnt go home with the guy (the two of
them developed a serious man crush on each other over the course of our 9
hours of drinking).

So as I'm weighing all of this, I've gone up to 110 sheets to the wind, and
at long last decide to leave with him. Ultimately I figured if things went
badly, I could just steal something from him or break a valuable. We're
about to leave and I say I have to run to the bathroom.

And that's where God (and biology) intervened.

The end.

5 Comments:

At 6:06 PM , Anonymous Sally said...

If you were 100 sheets to the wind, you'd be LESS drunk, not more. Are you some kind of goddamned moron?

 
At 9:07 PM , Blogger Steezy said...

i hate it when this bitch is right.

http://www.randomhouse.com/wotd/index.pperl?date=19980703

 
At 10:00 PM , Anonymous FTP said...

I got a call from Super Fan today saying he hasn't had that much fun in ages. Apparently he got home Saturday night and "couldn't stop smiling".

Duh. Whatelse do you do after spending 10+ hours with Steez and FTP.

 
At 2:08 AM , Anonymous Brett said...

Bleh! Your sooner-love could not be more disturbing and gross if you walked from DC to NY, punched me in the face, and puked on my shoes.

 
At 4:29 PM , Blogger Steezy said...

Brett, you know that's something I'll be happy to do once the weather warms up again:)

 

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