Boxing
Tim took me to the big boxing match at the Rose Garden tonight. Totally fun. The Main Event was a little underwhelming. Mayweather KO'd Mitchell in the 6th round with a viscious body blow to the gut that dropped Mitchell to one knee. Mayweather was pretty much in total control the whole time. The undercard bouts afterward with all the local fighters were a lot more fun. Totally raucus and fiesty. And they let the crowd in to sit ringside which was quite nice. Blazers could learn a lesson from that during blowouts. Michael Jordan was in the house. Presumably with Worldwide Wes, whoever he is. Charles Oakley too. And Jadakiss. There was a coked up retard next to me who was on what seemed like his first date with an older, smarter woman. He was all, "Yo Jadakiss is here, that's so crazy!....you don't know who Jadakiss is do you? He's one of the rappers that I listen to." Then he called his friend on his cell phone and told him how crazy it was that he was at a boxing match with Jadakiss.
It was the second bad first date of the night. Earlier on the Max this cute, very slightly chubby girl, was talking with a very nervous goateed guy who seemed to be a personal trainer of some sort. She was saying how she was trying to get back in shape and he should give her some tips. So the creepy doofus goes, "So what are your problem areas?" She made a vague dodge and he wouldn't give it up. "What parts of your body do you want to improve." "My hips and my upper thighs." she said lamely.
My favorite overheard bad first date of all time though has to be an epic soapopera I and several other pathetic Americans were lucky enough to enjoy on a Greyhound bus to St. Louis. Chatty guy with the science fiction book. You know the type, tall, thick, glasses, theatrical flourishes to their speech and quirky, self-satisfied sense of humor. Like Penn Gillette back in college. Zeros in on this ditzy cute girl with huge tits (is that sexist? I'm not supposed to say that?) and at first it's adorable. Fucking young American love blossoming before your eyes. Two idiots totally entralled with one another. Talking about Mariah Carrey, talking about TV shows. Checking each other out. Somewhere in Utah shit goes sour. He'd done great at the rest stop at Wendys. I think he even showed her how to dunk her fries in Frosty. I think maybe he overshot a little, got too personal. Maybe asked for her number or something and anyway she just sort of went from into it and enjoying the whole new friend on the bus thing but she was obviously no longer as interested in this dude's odd ball rants and quirky trivia knowledge. You can tell he senses that he's lost it but he's so deseperate or in denial that he just won't let it die. All of a sudden he asks her if she's ever played CounterStrike. To her discredit she didn't give an immediate disinterested "no". She actually responded with something like, "I liked Tetris" or something. Anyway he latched on to this tiny little hook and went off. For literally hours this poor virgin dweeb described in detail every single weapon in the game counterstrike. He discussed their ammo capablities, the tactics and special techniques he preferred with each one. He recounted some of the more thrilling "frags" he'd racked up with each bazooka or crossbow. It was like he was in a trance. The girl mumbled uh-huhs just to keep it from getting too creepy, but she was looking around for help and sort of apologizing to the rest of us. Later, at a rest stop in Denver he tried to talk to me about my ukulele. In response I wisely said not a goddamn thing. And he left me alone.
clockwise from top-left: Floyd Mayweather, Michael Jordan, Jadakiss, some dude from CounterStrike.
It was the second bad first date of the night. Earlier on the Max this cute, very slightly chubby girl, was talking with a very nervous goateed guy who seemed to be a personal trainer of some sort. She was saying how she was trying to get back in shape and he should give her some tips. So the creepy doofus goes, "So what are your problem areas?" She made a vague dodge and he wouldn't give it up. "What parts of your body do you want to improve." "My hips and my upper thighs." she said lamely.
My favorite overheard bad first date of all time though has to be an epic soapopera I and several other pathetic Americans were lucky enough to enjoy on a Greyhound bus to St. Louis. Chatty guy with the science fiction book. You know the type, tall, thick, glasses, theatrical flourishes to their speech and quirky, self-satisfied sense of humor. Like Penn Gillette back in college. Zeros in on this ditzy cute girl with huge tits (is that sexist? I'm not supposed to say that?) and at first it's adorable. Fucking young American love blossoming before your eyes. Two idiots totally entralled with one another. Talking about Mariah Carrey, talking about TV shows. Checking each other out. Somewhere in Utah shit goes sour. He'd done great at the rest stop at Wendys. I think he even showed her how to dunk her fries in Frosty. I think maybe he overshot a little, got too personal. Maybe asked for her number or something and anyway she just sort of went from into it and enjoying the whole new friend on the bus thing but she was obviously no longer as interested in this dude's odd ball rants and quirky trivia knowledge. You can tell he senses that he's lost it but he's so deseperate or in denial that he just won't let it die. All of a sudden he asks her if she's ever played CounterStrike. To her discredit she didn't give an immediate disinterested "no". She actually responded with something like, "I liked Tetris" or something. Anyway he latched on to this tiny little hook and went off. For literally hours this poor virgin dweeb described in detail every single weapon in the game counterstrike. He discussed their ammo capablities, the tactics and special techniques he preferred with each one. He recounted some of the more thrilling "frags" he'd racked up with each bazooka or crossbow. It was like he was in a trance. The girl mumbled uh-huhs just to keep it from getting too creepy, but she was looking around for help and sort of apologizing to the rest of us. Later, at a rest stop in Denver he tried to talk to me about my ukulele. In response I wisely said not a goddamn thing. And he left me alone.
clockwise from top-left: Floyd Mayweather, Michael Jordan, Jadakiss, some dude from CounterStrike.
posted by E at 11:02 PM
1 Comments:
Excellent. I totally loved this entry, very different. The game we used to play at the restaurant was to guess which date a couple was on. First, third, special occasion, etc. The firsts are always painfully obvious. They are fascinating and amusing to gawk at, but karma is a bitch, and in the past few months I've been on a few totally-obvious-painfully-awkward first dates, and I'm pretty sure people were laughing at us, or at least watching in amusement.
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