On a Sunday afternoon, tired of the beautiful sunshine, the gorgeous fall colors, the perfect temperature for driving around with the windows down, we ducked in to the Crescent "No Lawyers" Bar.
On Sundays, the prime tables and chairs are dominated by middle-aged men watching football games wearing the "uniform"--sports jerseys of their favorite NFL teams. This leaves the less desirable tables for viewing the games available ... exactly what I wanted. When I go to a bar with a companion who desires attention be lavished on her, I try to sit with my back to the televisions or I tend to get distracted. Strong peripheral vision is a genetic trait cultivated over millennia that protects us hunter types from being ambushed in the tall grass by saber-toothed tigers or rock-wielding advanced primates.
I ordered a bloody Mary, a double-distracter as it provides things (garnishes) to play with and the dulling effect of alcohol, thereby lowering my ability to avoid distraction. An order of tater tots loaded with toppings provided another distraction, especially when the bloody Mary kicked in and I started trying to toss the tots in my mouth.
After the bloody Mary was gone, I ordered a cold Bud to wash the tots down, guzzled in as few trips to the lips as possible (the modus operandi for a Sunday afternoon), which softened the glares from my companion. Someone started giving away door prizes but didn't call our numbers, so I ordered a Margarita.
Wow. Look over there. That was that some great punt return! And on that screen there is a fumble. Ooh, those cheerleaders are hot. Hey! There's one tot left. It's mine!
Everyone is cheering. What happened? Which screen? Darn. I missed it. Ouch, that was a hard hit by that big dude over there. Now where'd she go? Oh well, barkeep, another round of tots. The Raiders just scored and this game has another quarter to go.