Remember the Titans
While I did like the movie "Remember the Titans," and I think that maybe I'm supposed to be writing about fiction this month (although that may be nonfiction; not sure.), this post has nothing to do with that movie.My work has Titans season tickets. And whenever they aren't being used for a game, they raffle them off among the employees. Last year, there was a game and no one else wanted to go except me and this one other girl, so I told them I would take the tickets.
Although you'll remember this time last year I was having a lot of medical problems. And the night of the Titans game, I was having them. And no one wanted to go with me.
So, I didn't go. I went home and slept. I even tried to get other people to take them, and no one wanted them.
So no harm, no foul, right?
Things are never that easy around here. And generally doing something wrong means receiving a passive aggressive nastygram. Which we did.
The new official edict of the office was that if you knew you couldn't go to a game you should not try to win the free tickets.
Instead of trying to plan being sick in advance, I decided that it would be a long, cold day in hell before I asked for the tickets again.
I'm serious. They could be playing the Colts (since I don't actually know the names of any of the Titans players) and Peyton Manning himself could hand-deliver the tickets, and I'd probably take a pass. I don't really like football that much, and when you have an outdoor stadium it can be too hot or too cold or too rainy. Not to mention we all know how much I love parking downtown...
Luckily I have to work Saturday night, so I didn't ask for tickets to this week's game. It also helps that being from Detroit, I pretty much abstain from pro football anyhow.
But if I'm tempted to ask about the tickets, I'll just "remember the Titans."
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