Hi. Um, hi there. Yes, um...could you turn that down? Yes, that game.
I don't know if you noticed...but I'm reading 'Emma' by Jane Austen. You wouldn't know anything about literature since you're knee-deep in that vulgarity strewn across the screen.
I understand that this is a bar...but you're encouragement of this violence is making me nauseous. You probably know this since I've turned my chair in disgust. I'm hoping that my added sigh and obnoxiously loud chair move got your attention.
You see, people like me are trying to participate in society. Learning about the social construct of the late 18th and early 19th century England is probably of no use to you; especially considering that you are currently drenched in nacho cheese.
Whilst I was turning the pages of a prized piece of literature, I couldn't help but hear you complain about the disagreements between rich owners and rich players. I would compel you to read some Jane Austen. She is one of the great commentators of social life during a transformative time in English history. Her life consists of determining 'status', what makes one's status, how one's status affects his/her life, etc. This may tie-in to your Neanderthal league's current disagreements.
But, you can't hear me. You have yet to turn the television down. Most of your sentences start with crude remarks that are funneled through obscene gestures. While I enjoy the visuals, I would hope you understand that other people in this bar are trying to read.
I see you are upset about the previous 'pass interference' penalty. I find this odd considering I'm reading about Emma Woodhouse's interference in the lives of numerous individuals. She has certainly got into a topsy-turvy situation with Mr. Elton and Harriet Smith. Ah, you Emma! The naive conundrum that is youth!
Her light-hearted story is always enjoyable. However, it's tough to enjoy these moments when you're yelling, 'F--- you, Brady!' right next to me...or when you get so excited after your team (whoever they are) scores and you knock over my plate of brie and water crackers. Maybe you should just grab my glass of Caffe Tobio and chuck it across the room, too.
I find your incessant needling of the referees more unbearable than a conversation with Miss Bates. I sit here trying to lose myself in the English countryside...and you're pontificating about the ill-conceived rule changes by the football commissioner.
You know what...I'm leaving. I'd take the crackers and brie with me, but I'm afraid you might kick them again before I can leave. I'll just take my Tobio and Emma. Maybe to a park where it's quiet...you know, where real people go. Why? Because there's more to life than football.
Enjoy your game. I'm off to the land of dreams.