I’ve been a Saints fan forever.
I won’t even talk about the game here, but I will say that before now, I thought that watching the Saints/Seahawks game in a bar IN NEW ORLEANS would be the most painful heartbreak I’d ever experience as a Saints fan.
I was wrong. Sitting in the grungy basement open-all-night dive on campus, watching my team get raped up the ass by the fucking Packers of all people, surrounded by all the other rabid football fans on campus (which is to say, about 7 of them - not even the school’s football team cared enough to watch the season opener), who are all rooting for the Packers?
That shit sucks.
I had to call my dad. I know he was watching, and feeling my pain, even though he’s not even a Saints fan. I stumbled down the street to Saul’s dorm, fucking CRYING like a goddamn BABY, in my jersey, and I got stopped by a bunch of bros who said, “Woah man, woah, I’m sorry about that shit, man.”
Then I got to Saul’s room, and since my boyfriend doesn’t give two fucks about football, I had to try and explain why I was so upset and I couldn’t make him understand.
Fuck it. I’m going to bed.
