It’s mere hours away from Monday Night Football and sitting here from the heart of Colts country I have a confession to make. I don’t give a shit.
Hold the pitchforks and temper your torches and allow me to explain myself.
I don’t get football. I have no idea what’s going on down there on the field. I have never had a reason to learn. In high school I went to football games to socialize (yes, I’m that girl. Apologies.). In college I went to exactly one football game and we left before halftime because it was cold, yo and watching A Walk to Remember/taking a nap sounded like a much better idea.
I’ve been known to fall asleep while Peyton Manning is on the field which I’m pretty sure qualifies me to be strung up by my toenails and forced to watch hours of football with my eyelids taped open until I relent that yes, football is awesome. Also, I had to google Peyton Manning because I wasn’t sure if it was Peyton or Payton which I’m sure has it’s own set of tortures. Look, I think his commercials are funny, okay? And he’s got that other brother who plays football too, right? I know stuff!
Okay, not really. I watch the Superbowl for the halftime show. The Britney Spears/NSYNC/Aerosmith/Mary J. Blige/Nelly halftime show remains a favorite, I don’t care what you people say!
Two weeks ago at Barnes and Noble, Bookstore Dude With the Really Pretty Eyes (Side note: I am in this particular store so often the staff all pretty much know me on sight.) was all “Why aren’t you ladies watching the Colts game?” and as I tried to not make eye contact, oh my god don’t make eye contact you’ll never stop blushing/break away from the omg so pretty eyes I decided, fuck it and told the truth. “So, I’m not supposed to say this, but I just don’t care about football. Yeah, yeah, yeah never stop looking at me like that. I just don’t care…go Colts?” as I lamely held up my Colts credit card.
Look, I want the Colts to win, I really do. No seriously, I do. Do I need to show you my Colts credit card again? If that’s not proof I don’t know what is. You people are never satisfied! I also know that I’m supposed to hate the Patriots, so I do. I’m just not going to watch either of them do whatever it is they do.
In theory I should really like football. Hot boys running around in tight, shiny pants, beer, awesome snacks. However, in practice after about two minutes I’m all, “I’m boooooored. Someone entertain me!” to which whoever actually is watching the game will reply, “I’m not your personal entertainer. Watch the game!” To which I respond, “Dance CLOWN!” And the ensuing fight (think Jennifer Aniston and Christina Applegate on Friends) lasts 293 minutes and when we’re done the game is STILL ON.
So, while you’re all watching grown men run into each other on purpose, drinking beer and yelling, “Catch the damn ball!” and, “OOOOOOH! Did you SEE that?!?!” and, “What a pass!” or whatever it is you people yell at your tvs, I will be watching twenty-something vampires angst their way through high school, drinking a glass of wine and yelling, “Take off your shirt!” and “Come on girl, it’s time to hit. that.” and, “Say it with your shirt off!”.
*Yes, I’m just as surprised as you are that I posted again this week.