As those of you who know me know, I essentially have the coordination of a drunk cat being forced to walk on it’s hind legs. I’m bad at sports, I don’t care about sports, I never have. Suddenly though, I find myself working behind the bar at a a sports bar. How did that happen?
So now, in an attempt to perhaps broaden my personal knowledge of the professional athletic arena, I am legitimately trying to learn about sports. I just watched an hour of Sportscenter, and I’ve got to say, this shit is not going to work for me. I can fake interest, I can fake happiness, I can fake empathy, what I can not fake however is actual knowledge. There is absolutely no way to pretend to care about this crap without actually caring about this crap.
Here I’ve been freaking out about memorizing drink pours and things of that nature, when it completely slipped my mind that working in a sports bar might entail watching and talking about some sports. I don’t know how these things don’t occur to me earlier. Plus, we’re right across the street from the hockey arena, which means that the Blue jackets players ( Columbus’ hockey team) will probably be coming in fairly frequently, and it would be in my best interest to know who the hell they are.
How does this crap happen? Why couldn’t I just find a job working at some nice, posh bar where everyone wants to know my opinions on shoe shopping, cat ownership, and making fun of unfortunate looking people? I’d be golden there!
Now you maybe will begin to understand why I’ve become a sports fan. Living with two males it becomes inevitable. Whether I like it or not, sports have become a part of my life-may as well enjoy it by wearing team colors and using that as an excuse to drink cocktails.