On Friday um . . . . oh, the debate! I went to the Manse and got drunk watching the debate. It wasn't a slam dunk by any means, but I thought our man looked all right. Whatever though, Bush embarrassed the shit out of himself last time, and people still voted for him, so I don't think debates are all that important anymore. I am hype as hell for the VP debate on Thursday, though, cuz that lady is WACK and I can't wait for her to embarrass the shit out of herself in front of everybody. Did you see her interview with Katie Couric? Good lord. The only good thing about Sarah Palin is her Starfleet-issue wardrobe.
Then on Saturday Chris and I went to wiffleball (he played, I watched) and then went to the parking lot of the Linc to tailgate prior to the Phillies game at 4pm. If you didn't know, it was the second-to-last game: if the Phillies won, they'd clinch the NL East; if they lost, they had to win their last game. So we met up with Chris's buddies from work, ate some hamburgers, drank some beers, and went in to the game.
It was my first and last Phillies game this season (I also went to a Mets game earlier in the season: so long, Shea! (PS I wore my Phillies shirt to the Mets game; Sean was embarrassed, and Mitch said I was his hero.)) It was a good game! We were in the nosebleeds near the right field foul post. I bought cotton candy.
And we WON! Holy cow it was amazing. The energy in that place was phenomenal. I high fived every single person I passed on our way out the stadium, and through the parking lot, etc etc.
HOWEVER: bad news folks. We get to my car, and Chris is like, "dude, your tire is flat." Balls! I have had low tires for a while, but no one can get the caps off, and I've been putting off seeing a man about it. Well, I still had a few beers coursing through my veins, so I took in stride. "Well, we'll just have to change it," I said, throwing open the hatchback door. "Whoa, BOTH your tires are flat," Chris called. We went around the other side. All four tires were flat.
My friends, it became clear upon further investigation that someone had slashed all four of my tires. Yes that's right! Amazing, isn't it? Who know anyone out there disliked me so much.
Seriously though, what? The mind boggles. Who would do such a thing? Why would anyone do that to a fellow Phillies fan? At a game where we clinched the division? The folks tailgating to the rear of my car theorized that it was because I had Jersey plates. I -- what?? That doesn't even make any sense. I'm sure half the cars there were from Jersey. Maryland plates, while still TOTALLY FUCKED UP, would at least make slightly more logical sense (we were playing the Nationals). The folks with that amazing theory also said that they were out there during the whole game, and saw nothing. At the time I was like "uh okay" and in the light of sober day, I wish I had gotten their information. Because that sounds fishy.
There are only two more theories: a case of misidentification. Some other blue Scion xB owner pissed somebody off, and I bore the brunt of the retaliation. OR, it was the dude who Chris pissed off on the way in to the parking lot: he was trying to squeeze into the entrance ahead of us, cutting 5 or 6 people off, and Chris kept inching up so as to keep him out. I was leaning back against the headrest with my eyes closed, pretending I was anywhere else, because I do not like how Chris interacts with other people when driving (other people are stupid and FUCKING CRAZY, and it is not worth it to me to make an issue of every minor infraction that other drivers commit. Chris disagrees. This was the first time I chose to be the Silent Sleeping I'm-Not-Here-Person, instead of the Nagging Girlfriend. And look where it got me.) Eventually the other driver rolled down his window and said "hey, fuckface, are you going to let me in or what?" and Chris apparently ignored him. But I mean, the dude got in ahead of us! But that is our best lead. I wish we had gotten HIS license plate number as well. (By the way, after reminding me of this guy later, post-slashing, Chris immediately retracted the dude as a possible suspect. You'll have to ask him why; sure it's unlikely, but it's our only lead.)
Seriously though, who DOES such a thing? I mean you have to be mentally unstable to do such a mean-spirited thing to someone you don't even know. People are crazy.
I wish I had written down more people's license plate numbers, but I didn't. We called AAA, and they had a flatbed out there in less than 30 minutes. The dude was super nice and friendly, and we made it home in good time, whereupon everybody told me I smelled like alcohol. I scooted to work today, and my car will be ready by the time I get home (with new brakes to boot.) Chris has chivalrously offered to pay for half of the cost of the tires. And he is no longer allowed to drive my car in any situation where we might possibly have to interact with other drivers. It's a shame, he just got his garbage disposal privileges back after clogging up my shit two Valentine's Days ago with lobster.
So then! Sunday! I napped in front of football, which, after outside, is my favorite place to nap. I made a boneheaded decisions in re: my fantasy leagues, and only won one game (out of three). BUT! I chose Jacksonville when everyone and their brother (not my brother, though) chose Denver or Dallas in our suicide league, and the field has been narrowed to FOUR! So that is exciting. The Eagles lost, it was pretty awful. I'm trying not to dwell.
So to sum up: Hooray for the Phillies! Boo to one particular Phillies fan! Hooray for football in general! Boo to the Birds! All in all, the good outweighs the bad this weekend.