Yesterday was game day: UF vs. UMiami. While the overall gist of football is lost on me entirely (despite Mr. Simpletary's efforts), I was able to gather a bit of the hometown college football culture and-- no joke-- it's totally awesome.
For starters, given the theme of the day, this post would be far more appropriate written like this. A half-hour survey of the UF grounds was enough to realize that, on game day, everyone-- seriously, everyone-- is decked out in blue and orange. I was able to do some recon work by donning my new shiny gator shirt (cute!) and walk around unnoticed albeit terrified someone would ask me a football-related question (people are friendly and talkative down south).
Ah, game day; the air smells of barbecue and the people reek of beer. Of course, there is an actual game thrown in the midst of the tailgating and inebriation, but let's leave the sports talk to Mr. Simpletary. If the fans were colorful in garb during the day, they were far more colorful in behavior that night.
You have now entered the Salty Dog.
Granted, I've only been there a couple of times, but this local institutionalized shitshow leaves nothing to be desired. Last night it was in top form: it looked like somebody threw up orange and blue tshirts all over a bunch of middle aged rednecks. We were fortunate enough to meet two undergrads with extra booth space (the place was packed) and drank the lethal Long Islands ($3!) while they regaled us with tales of their totally fictional and unconvincing homosexuality. To top it off, our classy evening ended with an even classier ride home in a rickshaw while one of us (not me, this time) vomited off the side. Three drunk girls piled into a bicycle-powered wagon drew a surprising amount of attention; we even got challenged to a race by a guy on a Razor scooter.
I've learned what to do in times like these. "Go Gators!"
Go gators, indeed.
2 comments:
... and you will go down in history as such, and people will revel in your glory.
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