Saints 40 …………………… Texans 33
I spent the afternoon at the Superdome today watching a pretty exciting game with my friend, Holly. (Thanks again for bringing me. I’m glad to see I broke my bad luck streak with you.) Of course, the fun started before we even entered the stadium as we navigated ourselves through the throngs of Black-and-Gold-bedecked fans to get to our gate. I’m so sorry I didn’t get a picture of the six-inch gold glittery stilettos that prevented one woman from walking with straightened knees. And I am not exaggerating.
We were both pretty hot by the time we reached our entrance and … although I knew it would open the floodgates (almost literally) for me with bathroom trips … I was really glad I had chosen to make a drink at the tailgate stop we made on the way in. Seriously, I think I went six times today … and that was with me trying to be good for the men in the aisle seats. They’re going to really appreciate Holly’s one-pee-per-event husband in my stead at the next game. (Maybe I should really be pursuing a bladder augmentation. Hey … I might be on to something. Anyone?)
But back to outside the stadium.
When we finally got to our gate, we got threaded into different lines to get in. It only took a minute for the guys in front of us to point out that there were separate lines for men and women to enter. I mindlessly complied with their instructions, assuming the segregation was due to the fact that women took longer because of purse checks.
Little did I know.
If you think the pat down at the airport is a big deal, you really need to go to an NFL football game this year. Your constitutional rights are NOTwhat’s violated here. And that’s why I needed to have a female employee. This poor woman left no boob, armpit, stomach, back, butt, or inner thigh (yep, all the way up) untouched. And remember, everyone was sweating from the heat.
There’s just not enough Purell in the world for me.
Of course, the upside is, unlike the airport where you have to submit to all of this crap without uttering a syllable, this experience allows you to make all the comments you want. I think these unfortunate individuals were either complained to or hit on (by “hilarious” fans) the entire day.
I sure hope they’re paid well.
Are you kidding … I’m not going to another game unless they promise me a male will do my pat down. Those tickets are expensive and I feel I should be entertained and made to “feel special” even before I step foot in the dome!