You Want Your 3-Foot Sub in A Bag?
My Sunday morning grocery trips are sort of ruined when the Bills have a home game that is scheduled to start at 1 p.m.
You see, the best time to grocery shop is around 7:30 or 8 a.m. on Sunday mornings. The aisles are less crowded. There's less of a chance to do the aisle dance with some dopey bastard who puts his cart on one side of the aisle and then searches for cream of moron soup while he stands on the other side.
"Can you get the f&*$k out of the way?" I politely inquire.
Yeah....Sunday mornings...it's the time to get crap done.
But not on Bills home game Sunday.
The parking lot was filled with young men and women in jerseys of so-called stars. A lot of the jerseys were outdated.
I saw a Flutie jersey, a Lynch jersey, a Fitzpatrick, and even a Henry.
(That guy has about a dozen kids with 14 different women and he's in prison, long-term, I think. Would you wear a shirt with his name on it?)
Still, it's all in good fun.
I had great times at Rich Stadium.
(I refuse to call it the Ralph...how pretentious can you be? Naming a stadium after yourself).
Anywhoha....
At the deli counter there were 8 people dressed in New England Patriots jerseys. Young guys. All a tad hungover, it appeared.
I took my number and turned to a kid wearing a Brady jersey.
"So what're you guys doing today?"
He laughed.
"Football!"
"So, who you rooting for?"
He laughed again.
He was trying to read me.
"It's a madhouse there," I said. "Brady isn't real popular in these hear parts. No fighting!" I said.
"Yes, Dad," he said.
"Are you going to the game?" he asked.
This time I laughed.
"It's a young man's game," I said.
I placed my order and he drifted away, but he turned to ask me one last thing.
"Who's gonna' win?" he asked.
"It's gonna' be a long ride home for you guys," I said.
This time we both laughed.
You see, the best time to grocery shop is around 7:30 or 8 a.m. on Sunday mornings. The aisles are less crowded. There's less of a chance to do the aisle dance with some dopey bastard who puts his cart on one side of the aisle and then searches for cream of moron soup while he stands on the other side.
"Can you get the f&*$k out of the way?" I politely inquire.
Yeah....Sunday mornings...it's the time to get crap done.
But not on Bills home game Sunday.
The parking lot was filled with young men and women in jerseys of so-called stars. A lot of the jerseys were outdated.
I saw a Flutie jersey, a Lynch jersey, a Fitzpatrick, and even a Henry.
(That guy has about a dozen kids with 14 different women and he's in prison, long-term, I think. Would you wear a shirt with his name on it?)
Still, it's all in good fun.
I had great times at Rich Stadium.
(I refuse to call it the Ralph...how pretentious can you be? Naming a stadium after yourself).
Anywhoha....
At the deli counter there were 8 people dressed in New England Patriots jerseys. Young guys. All a tad hungover, it appeared.
I took my number and turned to a kid wearing a Brady jersey.
"So what're you guys doing today?"
He laughed.
"Football!"
"So, who you rooting for?"
He laughed again.
He was trying to read me.
"It's a madhouse there," I said. "Brady isn't real popular in these hear parts. No fighting!" I said.
"Yes, Dad," he said.
"Are you going to the game?" he asked.
This time I laughed.
"It's a young man's game," I said.
I placed my order and he drifted away, but he turned to ask me one last thing.
"Who's gonna' win?" he asked.
"It's gonna' be a long ride home for you guys," I said.
This time we both laughed.
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