There I sat, in a sea of people wrapped around the inside of an arena, all seemingly with little blood in their alcohol streams. I can hear all 20,000 people screaming and yelling, but can not understand one of them. It almost sounds like I am in the mouth of an Asthmatic trying to catch their breath. And even though everyone is at their loudest, my ears only hear a muffled hum that seems to only be getting fainter and fainter. My head is throbbing with the overload of noise.
Maybe, I am going deaf.
I then sat back, where I am crammed between two bolted-down rows of blue plastic. My back feels like a skeleton as the hard-plastic tucks into my bones. When I crank my head to the right, a pair of bifocals stares back at me. His two-tone hair piece looks restless and grungy. My only hope is that he killed it before he came to sit by me. His face is covered in musty scruff, as his face is precipitating pretty heavily at this point. I can now smell the beers he had slammed down minutes earlier. I am beginning to almost taste it too, so I turn my head to the left.
It is an empty seat.
The plastic bottom is flipped-up like a tray-table in an airplane. The spotlights above flicker into my pupils, off the blue plastic. I remember my friend went to get popcorn, but boy will his face be red. I mean there is enough popcorn layering the ground below our feet, it could fill a bathroom tub. Unfortunately, it would probably taste like it too.
Then I decide to watch the basketball game again.
I sat three stories above the wood floor. It was covered in reflected lights and giant men, but from here, it merely looks like clothed ants dripping left-to-right, and the converse on a glossy two-by-four board.
Makes one almost feel like their on top of the world.
Too bad in the scheme of watching sporting events, that’s not always as good as it sounds.
