Last Friday, LTJ met me after work and we had our first explorations of Manhattan in the Soho area. We putzed around and stumbled onto a major Harry Potter event outside of the Scholastic store. People were lined up to get into this fenced off area, where they had all kinds of wizard shops from the books. Street performers were eating fire and juggling and performing other magical tricks. They even had Moaning Myrtle in the porta potties. Her voice was wailing from some hidden loudspeakers and emissions of smoke were coming from there. Pretty clever.
Anyways, that’s not really the point of this post. Though, it does illustrate how you can find just about anything in NYC.
As we were walking toward Tribeca in Soho, we passed an Irish bar that had the Sox-Yankees game on. As LTJ drooled through the window, I suggested we step inside for some beers. While throwing back a few Guinness (resplendent with shamrocks in the foam head courtesy of our excellent bartendress), 3 guys walked in and asked what was happening with the game. The Sox were shaming the Yankees and had just scored another run, which is pretty much what LTJ said.
In a mocking tone, one of the guys — who happened to look like A-Rod’s brother though I didn’t tell him as much — said, “Oh, what are you Mets fans?” LTJ didn’t miss a beat: “No, we’re Red Sox fans and it looks like you’re getting spanked right now.”
Ok. That isn’t a direct quote. But to those guys whatever he said translated into that. The pseudo-friendly banter continued with the Yankees fans trying to hurt our feelings. “Well, it only took you 86 years to win the World Series.” Blah. Blah. We threw some quips back their way.
I whispered to LTJ to be careful. I didn’t want him getting jumped. He was like, “But you got my back, right?” Har. Har.
Besides my concerns, it really was pretty harmless. We left there and found this odd place called The Garage in Tribeca. It reminds me of some Boston bars, but much worse. Like a cross between Waterworks in Marina Bay and a post-college frat boys bar. Let’s put it this way, they have Beer Pong tournaments on Wednesday nights. Highlights: huge projection screen of the game, free bud bottles at the night’s end. It didn’t even feel like being in Manhattan. Where most places are posh, with everyone wearing black, drinking martinis, etc., this place was all about cheap pitchers and evener cheaper men gazing over the slim female pickings. However, despite my initial reservations, the food was excellent.
The Sox continued to spank the Yanks, royally. Toward the end of the game, there were a few particularly delicious plays and even I was getting riled up, laughing and clapping and cheering on the Sox.
A group at the next table were hanging out, chatting. To be honest, it didn’t even seem like they were paying attention to the game. And when I shouted in glee at the last out, this one girl (not even facing the screen, mind you) says “What, do you think that’s funny?” in a very provoking, accusatory tone.
Me: “Yeah, actually I think its verrrry funny.”
Biatch: “What, YOU don’t like the Yankees?”
[ geez, is it really that shocking? ]
Me: “Ha. No, we don’t like the Yankees around here.”
At this point, I really had to turn away as I was confident this was leading no where good, and that soon LTJ would need to have my back.
We paid our bill after waiting for the slowest waitress ever, and I really had to go to the bathroom. Earlier, that girl had left the table, and I had a feeling she was in the bathroom. I headed up to the restroom and immediately knew that I was in the stall next to her. I was taking awhile. And she was taking even longer.
Suddenly, her friend pokes her head in because I can hear her asking, “Hey so and so are you all right in there?”
Biatch: “Yeah, I’m good.” [ not knowing I’m in the stall right next to her. ]
Friend: “Well, my cousin’s gonna wait for you right outside.”
Me: Silently chuckling.
I exit the stall before Biatch, slowly wash my hands and leave the bathroom walking past said cousin and smirking at him.
Ha. Ha. So funny. They obviously thought I was beating the girl up in the bathroom or something.
Two things that annoyed me about this:
1) Once again, I get singled out to be harassed even though LTJ was being much more provoking to Yankees fans [losers] all night long. I think his saving grace was he wasn’t wearing his Sox hat.
2) Are Yankees fans really that fucking arrogant that they are literally shocked — no dumbfounded — when they encounter someone in NYC who isn’t a fan of their team? Or are they just that stupid? I mean come on. It’s probably one of the most hateable teams in all of baseball. Biatch!
To be fair, I think some people in Boston act the same way when they see a Yankees fan. In fact, I can distinctly recall a certain someone ripping a “Red Sox sucks” sign off the back of a Yankees fan. But there were extenuating circumstances in that case. It was right after the devastating game 7 ALCS loss in 2003. There was also a lot of alcohol involved. I can’t be held accountable.
Anyways, I no longer live in Boston. I can pretend that I don’t know the reverse holds true.
All I know is now we are Sox fans living in the belly of the beast.