We went out with the Alaska Wymans to Dave & Busters in Anchorage, which my son assured me had something for everyone because it had lots of video games, a sports bar, and a restaurant with a good menu.
Apparently, I don't fit into the category of "everybody." It caused me to adjust my personal vision of Hell, which now reads as "Having to accompany competing borderline females and their ill-controlled children to Dave & Buster's." I found a spot on a back wall where I could see the many TV screens showing precisely two sporting events, without discerning what any of the narration was. I watched one woman with a Brazilian flag next to her name - Rodriguez, I think - defeat an American woman named Michelle in UFC. Then there was a boxing match I actually did develop some interest in, as the crowd was getting very excited by the Mexican named Canelo and he was fighting a gypsy from the UK named Saunders. I could tell he was a gypsy because of the Roma flag.
They were both arrogant and obnoxious, but I leaned against the crowd and sort of rooted for the Roma lad. He started pulling ahead and was beginning to dominate because of superior speed and power, but he looked like he was getting risky and trying to put the other guy away too fast. I expected a mistake and he made a big one, leaving himself wide open and getting himself absolutely clocked. He was trying to just stay away and survive the rest of the round, then lost by a TKO. He lost fair and square, but he was definitely ahead before that and could have won if he had been smarter.Then they put a lot of belts on the Canelo, which means he must have owned them already and been the champion, and we went home. I feel like I understood exactly as much as I needed to without hearing a word or following up with the sports news. I am still not watching anything, only what I pick up accidentally by listening to other things. It's working out just fine.
2 comments:
Dave & Busters kicked me out once for violating their dress code. I was coming from a Scottish Highland Games at the time. Never went back. You make me think I got the best of the exchange.
I'm trying to imagine what rule they gave to their poor front-line employees that you were violating. All males must wear pants? Ordinarily, I would think that a good rule, but one has to wonder about people not making exceptions for the kilt.
If you were playing bagpipes at the time, I have to say I would agree with them, though. Seventeen kinds of noise is too many.
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