On the short list of things I never thought I’d find myself doing in my life, sitting outside of a Best Buy in the middle of the night with 200 of the same closest friends I celebrated the big win with, as well as a man in an oversized dog suit (Apparently his name is “Gumbo.”) was nowhere to be found.
Next time I’m about to nag Man that we don’t go out together enough anymore, I’ll be sure to remember this night.
So why, you ask, am I parked on my tushie on the cold pavement walkway outside this electronics superstore? Well, as it turns out, the New Orleans Saints have released something of a “greatest hits” DVD of this past season, and if Man doesn’t get a signed Blu-Ray copy of said disk he might cease to exist. (Frankly, I thought he’d already seen all these “highlights” having watched Every. Single. Game. But what do I know?) Hence: me and hundreds of other women’s Mans sitting outside, exposed to the elements and subject to various remixes of “Stand Up Get Crunk” for the next two hours.
No offense, Who Dat Nation, but I think we should start seeing other people.
Especially since none of you seemed to find my incredibly clever quip about Scott Fujita funny.
Man to The Random Fan to His Left: Nobody seems too broken up about the loss of Fujita around here.
Me Cutting In Before Random Fan Could Answer: I don’t see what the big deal is. You can pick up a sack of Fujitas for 3.99 at Taco Bell.
Screw you, it was funny!