CasaBar was packed out — but people were still, for some reason, waiting in line — and El Alamo was charging a ridiculous $60 AR to get in and watch the game. Standing up.
Juan and I made our way to some pirate-themed tourist bar where we drank frosty Brahmas and watched the game pretty much by ourselves. The Argentinians weren’t interested. I guess because the players weren’t rolling around on the field pretending that their shins were broken.
I decided before I got there that I would root for the Colts, if only because Indianapolis is my hometown, more or less. “Home” being a euphemism for “boring hellhole.”
Still, I didn’t mind that the Saints won. Reggie Bush is frakin’ hot and Scott Fujita is a Pinko Communist Fag from Berkeley.
Drunk already, we headed off to an empty Red Door for pool, boy-and-girl watching and even more beer.
