So there I am, sitting, minding my own business when this guy, all smiles, walks up to my nearly empty aisle and sits down next to Bobby. He grins his goofy grin, the kind that can only mean you aren’t going to like what he has to say, but god bless him he’s trying, and then he makes the mistake of opening his mouth.
“So I know you are having your fun and hey, I appreciate that!” he begins. “But there are lots of women an children around, so can you keep it down and please stop with the obscenities?”
Oh, this fucking guy. I’ve heard from this fucking guy before.
“First of all,” I says “there really aren’t any children near me, and secondly they are at a game where violence is cheered, so I don’t accept your flawed morality that my cursing, which I’m not doing much of, is the difference between this being a nice, wholesome evening for whatever children may hear me.”
Of course that answer, the one grounded in logic, means nothing to Chuckles, so he continues. On and on and on, same old shit. Bobby asks him if he is with his children.
“Are you a season ticket holder?”
“Yes, but normally I sit downstairs.”
Ah, well that explains a lot.
Finally I agree, just to shut this incessant bobble head up, to not specifically curse to piss him off, which at this point I very much want to do, and perhaps be conscientious of what I say. No promises. Realizing that’s the best he’s gonna get, he grins that goofy fucking grin again and skips on town to his seats a few rows in front of me.
As he approaches his seat, he looks at me and points to something in the section next to ours.
“What?” I ask nicely.
“Look, there’s a kid right there, he can hear you.”
“Yes,” I replied, “but he’s wearing glasses so he doesn’t count.”
Having soundly won that argument, I smile my own goofy smile and return to watching the 200lb freak shows hit each other as hard and as often as they can. But not before I noticed the pile of molasses this dude is sitting next to, what I can only imagine is, in some cultures, referred to as a woman. The look on her face tells me she was spawned in a Petri dish and hasn’t finished growing.
About 5 minutes later I started a simple ‘Lets Go Kings!’ chant and Chuckles looked back and forced one last goofy grin as his silicon cur made him leave the game. I was happy to help.
Anyways, Phoenix in an hour. Fuck those guys! No idea whose starting for the Kings or who will be scratched outside of Toffoli and Richardson, who I highly doubt will play.
If you were ever thinking of visiting Glendale, Arizona, think something else instead.
They don’t like aliens at Jobing
I don’t mean the kind that do probing
Which is unfortunate for Doan
As in Phoenix he’s not alone
In having a stick up his ass that needs lubing.
Categories: L.A. Kings News