Friday, December 10, 2004

An Open Letter About Sports Bars


I have to tell you something...

It's my company's annual holiday party this afternoon. It's a at a bar
in the neighborhood and we're being given free food, free drinks, and
tokens to this massive video arcade in the basement.

The catch: it's at ESPN SportsZone. I plan to go. But I felt like I
had to tell you. I know that I am entitled to an abdominal pummelling,
and my bands of steel stand ready for your iron fists.

Here's the thing, though: I ain't getting soft. When we made that
pact, we were mere boys, insecure in our identities and trembling at
the autumn of our adolescence. Now we are men. Men that get excited
about free video games and Spiderman 2 on DVD, but men nonetheless.
And I feel like we know who we are now, and the presence or absence of
any number of meatheads is not going to change that. You're happily
married and have a career, and nothing short of terrorism is going to
change that.

While meatheads suck, they are hardly terrorists. They are who the
terrorists hate.

So if you must worry about my character, worry that I will be attacked
by a bunch of terrorists or my neon-green Sauconys will be stained
with cheap indie-snob/hipster soul will stay intact.

Although, some of that has fallen by the wayside as well, and it's
kind of a relief.

Love always,


I got this in response:

Fret not: free food, drink, and video games, at least for 1 or 2 days
a year, trump Harbor Park pacts. Enjoy the party, without the nagging
worry that you might be sucker punched by your be-dreadlocked homeboy...


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