I discovered this evening that I am not a sports bar person.
The Chicago Cubs are in the playoffs that come before the World Series. They're playing the Mets, I'm pretty sure. It's very exciting because the Cubs haven't won the Series since 1908 and the second Back to the Future movie predicted that they would win in 2015. Pretty cool, especially if it happens in real life.
My husband has been watching the games. He grew up watching Chicago baseball, mostly the Cubs, with an uncle who took him and his brother to many games at Wrigley Field. The current playoff games are being shown on a cable station that we don't get, so he started going to the sports bar near us to watch.
I came home today after a long day of teaching, meetings, emails to parents, and the occasional crisis to find that I didn't thaw the ground turkey that I had planned to use for dinner. My husband said, "No problem, I'll just eat at the sports bar." I thought maybe I would just go eat there, too, and then leave. He warned me it could be loud, but he said he'd really like to eat dinner with me.
There were a lot of people in the sports bar. And there were zillions of televisions, all showing the Cubs game. It was pretty loud between the volume of the TVs and the conversation of the patrons. We got a booth and looked over the menus and waited for a waitress. And waited. And waited as one after another they took care of all the tables near us. It was loud enough to make conversation difficult, especially for a person with a naturally soft voice. On top of that, my husband really wanted to watch the game, not talk to me.
I do know how baseball works, but I'm truly not interested enough to follow what's happening on the screen. I was gazing around at all the TVs, the other people in the bar, and wishing I had brought a book. Now that's ridiculous. Who brings a book to a sports bar when a major game is on?
So I left.
I hope they win. I really do.
