Tonight we’re gonna party like it’s 1972!
Went to bar.
No one in bar.
I am still irrationally stressed out.
Horrible. Annoying people.
Have to stand on chair to see. Because the THREE PEOPLE decide to stand IN FRONT OF THE TELEVISION.
“Is this hockey?”
“Is this the finals?”
“What’s the score?”
“Go away,” I curse. I throw a napkin. It kind of does this floaty thing. I throw a salt shaker.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” they say AS BERG SCORES. “Are you watching this?”
No. I just yell at television screens for a hobby.
OHMYGOD. Clearly they are Lapierre spies.
Get to watch replay. Start to hope. Start to dream. This is dangerous, I think. Losses are more crushing this way. Remember 2003?
Hahaha. Close up of Lapierre crying.
Yay! Close up of Tim Thomas crying.
Take away picture of me crying. That’s just too personal.
Stupid icky Yankees hat girl looks at screen. Grins, says, “Yay! We won! Is it the playoffs? I LOVE hockey.”
Josh says, “Actually, Boston won.”
She says, “No, those are the Rangers.”
I give her a sweet grin and say, “Congratulations!”
And Josh Beckett won too.
That is all.
Oh, and there’s a guy here who looks just like Greg Brady. But he gave me this weird look when I tried to take his picture.