While working at the Marriott in the Steelhead Lounge, there were many TVs on with some sporting event on and, although not a sports bar, it was widely accepted as the meeting place of the testosterone-pumped male. It was commonplace that employees would stop their work or congregate around the TV to catch a 10-15 minute glimpse of the game... every 10-15 minutes or so. Why is that acceptable? What if I wanted to watch someone fierce on Project Runway... or the Tony Awards were on and I wanted to see the fabulous Patti LuPone win a lifetime achievement award... or the 100th episode of Desperate Housewives was airing... or even the men's gymnastics finals were on... not even that one would be accepted even though technically it is a sport... (and while we're at it, hate to tell you but men rolling around on the floor in a cage mostly naked pressing their bodies together that ends in a hissy fit with kicking and slapping is called gay porn gone a wry, not extreme wrestling).
I heard that on Monday, schools will have a two-hour delay because it is planned on that the, now hormonally-unbalanced but future testosterone-pumped, wife-beating, beer-drinking boys of Pittsburgh will be tired from Sunday's event. I'm tired on Sunday's too... the frustration of waiting for Gabby to return to her former fabulous, rich self and how she will get rid of her bratty kids... whether Edie Britt will leave her husband... and whether or not Kevin and his boyfriend will ever escape from under Nora's thumb. That's real drama... Sports fans need to get a life... like me.
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