timberwolves and whiskey shots.

the olympics are done. thank christ. everyone can wake from their patriotic hypnosis and get back to life.
i may be an ardent critic of the big ol’ games but i gotta say, what a fucking finish.
sunday morning saw me laying in bed till the last possible minute before leaping out of bed, having a quick shower and running out the door to meet jessamyn and kate. we were headed to the beagle pub to watch the game.
get there and the fucking place is tits full. we were standing in the doorway trying to watch. time to go downtown. as we were walking down the empty streets trying to think of a place to go we heard an eruption of cheering coming from an apartment building. we stopped dead. ‘we just scored. FUCK WHERE’S A TV!’ we began running down humboldt street, past the empress determined to get to the garrick’s head pub where we knew there would be a wonderful crowd. too full, time to hit cabin 12. amy was working and we knew they had a few tvs set up.
enter: greenpeace guy. my desire to punch him was overthrown by my apparent need to watch this goddamn hockey game (go figure) and when he said ‘hey guys, got a minute?’ as we dashed by i just yelled ‘HOCKEY!’ proving to myself more than him that i am impressionable at best, and apparently extremely excitable too.
the three of us got to cabin 12 a sweaty panting mess and sat down. amy brought us a pitcher of beer which we promptly downed and i requested more. shit was intense. there was much screaming, groaning, high kicking.
at one point i looked over at kate. the scarf she had been wearing was now bunched in a ball in her hands. she was sitting bolt upright with a huge smile on her face. she looked at me. ‘I’M GONNA PUKE!’ she said. between the second and third period we all called our fathers to say hey whats up.
then luongo let one in. i knew it would happen, but i nearly had a heart attack.
when canada finally won everyone was freaking out. we were dancing around the restaurant spilling beer and singing o canada. jeff showed up and scoffed at us all, remaining the only one in the posse who stood by his ‘fuck this shit’ point of view. there was about ten of us. we all ran to bastion square and made with the celebrating. i felt like i was back home. amy and i ran into the middle of the mass of screaming hockey fans, most of whom were guys and some of which were stoked there were some girls freaking the fuck out. i was wasted.
i had to work at 7pm. i got there. i was drunk.