My radio compadre, Dave Haynes, and I strolled in about ten minutes before the game started and the place was SRO, wall-to-wall hardcore stogie tokers.
Dave found a seat right away and abandoned me and my fat ass directly in the main aisle where everyone was lined up to get food. You know how when you go to a club and there's a natural conga line to the bar but there's always that one idiot who stands right in it talking t somebody and just won't frikking move and everybody has to keep tapping him on the shouloder and saying pardon me pardon me pardon me? I was that guy.
Gambling was paramount and the stakes were high. Our bets:
- Who's wife would call more.
- How many "Givvin' it up to the lord" speeches would occur.
- Spit takes, overall.
- The length of the national anthem.
- Would she remember the words to the national anthem.
- MVP
- Who the MVP would thank (Jesus was 5 to 1)
My favorite and highly recommended choice, La Gloria Cubana Serie R Oscuro:
My second favorite and quite delicious, Hoya de Monterrey Dark Sumatra:
And my final choice, pretty good in a pinch, JFR, for which I have no picture. A lot of people rave about the JFR but it doesn't work for me. I can't put my finger on it but I just don't enjoy this smoke.So we screamed out guts out and rooted for the Giants the entire time and were entirely blown away by the heart and spirit the team showed. They were up against an undefeated team headed by a quarterback that apparently inspires "man crushes" from every corner of the guy-o-sphere. It was by far the best superbowl I've ever seen and as soon as I swab my lungs I'm going back to the King for post game fumar.
Yup. I'm a New Englander. That's "Pat's fan" to you! And I sniff cigars. But I don't smoke 'em. No siree Bob. Nope. Quit all of that inhaling--doobies, butts, whiffies, the bag--heck of a long time ago. In human years. Of course, really, I'm a writer. No. That's not true. YES IT IS. No,it totally is not. I can prove it!! No you can't. I'm going to tell mom. OH FOR G-D'S sake your MOTHER IS DEAD. Oh, please. I just went by her house. And? And she is NOT DEAD! Does she answer your calls? Look, my mother doesn't answer ANYBODY'S calls. She answers when I call. Does not. Does too. Not. Too.
ReplyDeleteI bow both my heads in shame. Chicago has big ones.