harryskin
October-22nd-2006, 01:02 PM
Fedex Field, Sunday October 15th, 2006, Washington Redskins (2-3) vs Tennessee Titans (0-5), pre-game festivities being held on the field with all the pomp and ceremony of the Redskins band, the Cheerleaders, the announcers warming up the crowd, quite a spectacle presented to the loyal fans savoring the impending victory over the hapless Titans.
Amidst all of this, fans are slowly filling out the stadium. I am sitting in row 22 seat 7, a couple arrives to row 21, the young woman, no more than 30, likely less, takes seat 9, her escort, perhaps in the early to mid thirties, takes seat number 8. What caught my attention was her outer garment. It was a white bathrobe (?), the bathrobe looked as one of those thin woven bathrobes that one may find in a hotel room for the hotel guests use. The weather at this time was warm, but there were indications that it may turn chillier later on. So, may be this young lady brought the bathrobe to be used as a light jacket; unusual, yes, but plausible. In retrospect this may have been a portent of things to come.
First Quarter: Redskins offense does not quite get untracked at the start. Titans push the defense around but can’t quite get the 7 points. They settle for 3. The Redskins began to look like schlemiels on the field. Later on in the quarter they seem to get untracked and score a touchdown. Schlemiels? May be I am wrong. Perhaps I was too itchy on the trigger finger.
Second Quarter: Redskins start where they left off at the end of the first quarter. They score a touchdown. Redskins, 14 Tennessee 3. Hey, this is getting good. Happiness is short lived, the hapless Titans are beginning to play like real titans and the mighty Redskins are showing troubling schlemiel tendencies. By half time the Titans are the titans, and the Redskins are the schlemiels on the field.
Meanwhile in the stands, the couple seating in row 21 settle down to watch the game. The woman’s bathrobe is now on the seat next to the gentleman, along with his jacket, camera, etc. After she is nestled in her seat, she spots a beer vendor and purchases the first bottle, of many more to follow. Next to the woman, two fans come and take their seats. The new arrivals are two gentlemen, one perhaps 40 at most, most likely in the mid thirties, takes the seat next to her. His friend, a tad older, takes the seat next to him.
As the game unfolds the young woman, I shall refer to her as the “sorceress” from now on, starts talking to the man that took the seat next to her, from now on I shall call him “passive-aggressive”. During these early exchanges passive-aggressive must have said something about the game that the sorceress liked. She turned to her boyfriend, I shall call him “schlemiel” from now on, and informed him that she found a new buddy. From this point on, and for most of the first half, her attention was focused on passive-aggressive.
As time goes by, the sorceress gets friendlier with passive-aggressive, her head gets closer to his. Passive-aggressive sits straight, does not lean towards her, just sits there and waits for her to get closer and closer to him. Schlemiel is beginning to get worried, he puts his arm around her shoulders. Sorceress moves further away from schlemiel, his arm not withstanding, her face now is practically so close to passive-aggressive that they could just as well be alone in her bedroom ready to make love. Damn, the Redskins are on the move, I want to follow the action on the field, however, the action in the stands gets to be as critical as on the field. I do not move, my body is turned slightly towards the field and away from the action, inches from me. I turn my head, sorceress’ head is blocking my view of passive-aggressive’s face. I see a flash of tongue, I could swear is passive-aggressive’s tongue heading for her mouth just a millimeter away. I feel awfully sorry for schlemiel. By now he has already retrieved his arm from sorceress’ shoulder, realizing the futility of his efforts. Sorceress pulls away from passive-aggressive, a minute later she pokes him on the arm (remember, he is letting her come to him all the while) whispers something in his ear. Sorceress turns to schlemiel, the Redskins have scored early in the second quarter, she asks him for her cigarettes and discusses, where in the stadium she can smoke. She leaves, cigarette pack in hand, no sooner she gets to the end of the row and begins walking down the steps, passive-aggressive stands up, cigarette pack in hand, and follows her down the steps. His friend, moments later, also heads in the same direction. By now my pity for schlemiel is growing by leaps and bounds. The two men never returned to their seats.
Sorceress returns to her seat showing signs of inebriation, most of the second quarter is gone, the schlemiels on the field and the schlemiel in the stands are doing a macabre dance, now she is really sweet to schlemiel, what a contrast to a while back when he might as well did not exist. She comes back with a hot dog that has been bitten on. She offers for him to have a bite. He does not want, in the sweetest voice she pleads, please. All this sudden sweetness is getting to me. It is so obvious that she is trying to atone for her actions, I keep on imagining her “smoking” with her buddy and friend in some recessed part of Fedex Field, my heart is really bleeding for schlemiel. True to his role in this drama, he does take a bite of her hot dog.
Halftime is here. Sorceress departs again, schlemiel tells her, as she leaves the row, not to have any more beers, no more alcohol, he pleads. She pays no attention to him as she walks down the steps.
After a while, during halftime, schlemiel, takes his camera, leaves the clothing on the seat next to him, and goes down the steps. Sometime later he returns, alone, takes out his cell phone and places a call, no answer. Eventually, after the third quarter started, sorceress returns, and yes, you guessed it, with a beer in her hand.
Third Quarter: Titans, like real titans, are manhandling the schlemiel skins, fans are booing both the offense and defense. No pretense on the field.
No pretense in the stands either. Schlemiel is behaving like what he is, a schlemiel, sorceress comes back, takes his hand and holds hands for a while, smiling at him (duh?), poor guy. Soon he finds out the reason for this latest sweetness attack. She wants another beer. He buys one for her. Now, she has no use for him. She turns to flirt with another fellow, this one is seating in row 20, and younger than passive-aggressive.
Fourth Quarter: Redskins score a touchdown to tie the game. Can we come back? Will the schlemiels be forgotten? No luck, the Titans score a field goal and intercept Brunell to seal the Redskins fate.
By now, I am calling for Campbell to replace Brunell, sorceress turns to me, index finger in the air, as if about to make a profound statement. I look into her inebriated, blue, glazed eyes, all she manages to say is “ hey, wait a minute” twice she says that, and unable to gather her thoughts, she turns away to the game. I wonder if she is going to remember any or some of it.
In the stands, some men in my row, they also observed the ongoing drama on row 21, and actually had a better view of it than I did, advised schlemiel to control sorceress. It did no good because if he could have, he would have.
Game is over. Sorceress promises the young man that she would be back for the next Redskins game. My heart goes out to schlemiel.
(Schlemiel - Yiddish for Clumsy bunglar, an inept person, butter-fingered; dopey person)
Amidst all of this, fans are slowly filling out the stadium. I am sitting in row 22 seat 7, a couple arrives to row 21, the young woman, no more than 30, likely less, takes seat 9, her escort, perhaps in the early to mid thirties, takes seat number 8. What caught my attention was her outer garment. It was a white bathrobe (?), the bathrobe looked as one of those thin woven bathrobes that one may find in a hotel room for the hotel guests use. The weather at this time was warm, but there were indications that it may turn chillier later on. So, may be this young lady brought the bathrobe to be used as a light jacket; unusual, yes, but plausible. In retrospect this may have been a portent of things to come.
First Quarter: Redskins offense does not quite get untracked at the start. Titans push the defense around but can’t quite get the 7 points. They settle for 3. The Redskins began to look like schlemiels on the field. Later on in the quarter they seem to get untracked and score a touchdown. Schlemiels? May be I am wrong. Perhaps I was too itchy on the trigger finger.
Second Quarter: Redskins start where they left off at the end of the first quarter. They score a touchdown. Redskins, 14 Tennessee 3. Hey, this is getting good. Happiness is short lived, the hapless Titans are beginning to play like real titans and the mighty Redskins are showing troubling schlemiel tendencies. By half time the Titans are the titans, and the Redskins are the schlemiels on the field.
Meanwhile in the stands, the couple seating in row 21 settle down to watch the game. The woman’s bathrobe is now on the seat next to the gentleman, along with his jacket, camera, etc. After she is nestled in her seat, she spots a beer vendor and purchases the first bottle, of many more to follow. Next to the woman, two fans come and take their seats. The new arrivals are two gentlemen, one perhaps 40 at most, most likely in the mid thirties, takes the seat next to her. His friend, a tad older, takes the seat next to him.
As the game unfolds the young woman, I shall refer to her as the “sorceress” from now on, starts talking to the man that took the seat next to her, from now on I shall call him “passive-aggressive”. During these early exchanges passive-aggressive must have said something about the game that the sorceress liked. She turned to her boyfriend, I shall call him “schlemiel” from now on, and informed him that she found a new buddy. From this point on, and for most of the first half, her attention was focused on passive-aggressive.
As time goes by, the sorceress gets friendlier with passive-aggressive, her head gets closer to his. Passive-aggressive sits straight, does not lean towards her, just sits there and waits for her to get closer and closer to him. Schlemiel is beginning to get worried, he puts his arm around her shoulders. Sorceress moves further away from schlemiel, his arm not withstanding, her face now is practically so close to passive-aggressive that they could just as well be alone in her bedroom ready to make love. Damn, the Redskins are on the move, I want to follow the action on the field, however, the action in the stands gets to be as critical as on the field. I do not move, my body is turned slightly towards the field and away from the action, inches from me. I turn my head, sorceress’ head is blocking my view of passive-aggressive’s face. I see a flash of tongue, I could swear is passive-aggressive’s tongue heading for her mouth just a millimeter away. I feel awfully sorry for schlemiel. By now he has already retrieved his arm from sorceress’ shoulder, realizing the futility of his efforts. Sorceress pulls away from passive-aggressive, a minute later she pokes him on the arm (remember, he is letting her come to him all the while) whispers something in his ear. Sorceress turns to schlemiel, the Redskins have scored early in the second quarter, she asks him for her cigarettes and discusses, where in the stadium she can smoke. She leaves, cigarette pack in hand, no sooner she gets to the end of the row and begins walking down the steps, passive-aggressive stands up, cigarette pack in hand, and follows her down the steps. His friend, moments later, also heads in the same direction. By now my pity for schlemiel is growing by leaps and bounds. The two men never returned to their seats.
Sorceress returns to her seat showing signs of inebriation, most of the second quarter is gone, the schlemiels on the field and the schlemiel in the stands are doing a macabre dance, now she is really sweet to schlemiel, what a contrast to a while back when he might as well did not exist. She comes back with a hot dog that has been bitten on. She offers for him to have a bite. He does not want, in the sweetest voice she pleads, please. All this sudden sweetness is getting to me. It is so obvious that she is trying to atone for her actions, I keep on imagining her “smoking” with her buddy and friend in some recessed part of Fedex Field, my heart is really bleeding for schlemiel. True to his role in this drama, he does take a bite of her hot dog.
Halftime is here. Sorceress departs again, schlemiel tells her, as she leaves the row, not to have any more beers, no more alcohol, he pleads. She pays no attention to him as she walks down the steps.
After a while, during halftime, schlemiel, takes his camera, leaves the clothing on the seat next to him, and goes down the steps. Sometime later he returns, alone, takes out his cell phone and places a call, no answer. Eventually, after the third quarter started, sorceress returns, and yes, you guessed it, with a beer in her hand.
Third Quarter: Titans, like real titans, are manhandling the schlemiel skins, fans are booing both the offense and defense. No pretense on the field.
No pretense in the stands either. Schlemiel is behaving like what he is, a schlemiel, sorceress comes back, takes his hand and holds hands for a while, smiling at him (duh?), poor guy. Soon he finds out the reason for this latest sweetness attack. She wants another beer. He buys one for her. Now, she has no use for him. She turns to flirt with another fellow, this one is seating in row 20, and younger than passive-aggressive.
Fourth Quarter: Redskins score a touchdown to tie the game. Can we come back? Will the schlemiels be forgotten? No luck, the Titans score a field goal and intercept Brunell to seal the Redskins fate.
By now, I am calling for Campbell to replace Brunell, sorceress turns to me, index finger in the air, as if about to make a profound statement. I look into her inebriated, blue, glazed eyes, all she manages to say is “ hey, wait a minute” twice she says that, and unable to gather her thoughts, she turns away to the game. I wonder if she is going to remember any or some of it.
In the stands, some men in my row, they also observed the ongoing drama on row 21, and actually had a better view of it than I did, advised schlemiel to control sorceress. It did no good because if he could have, he would have.
Game is over. Sorceress promises the young man that she would be back for the next Redskins game. My heart goes out to schlemiel.
(Schlemiel - Yiddish for Clumsy bunglar, an inept person, butter-fingered; dopey person)