I have come to Migration to meet a friend and play some cards. After the last two weeks of going to dive bars, I’ve felt a little more alienated. Everyone there knew each other, told their stories and had a sense of comradery that I just missed on. Approaching strangers was harder in a way, because the communities were set up and I am not one of them. So I was hoping that visiting with some friends would be a nice way to break that solitude up.
There has been a communication mixup though and I am all alone…and the Blazers game is starting. Playoff game vs. Dallas.
The Old Silenus Amber I have is good and so is my meatball sub. No complaints about the edibles or the service. But the crowd is into the game. I’m lucky; I can’t see the TV from where I’m sitting and as I look out at everyone, staring at the TV like Jebus has come back, slack jawed, glassy eyed, I am glad.
I’m starting to hate these people, utter strangers. They’re cheering and getting happily riotous for men who are running around to throw balls through hoops.Words like ‘foul trouble’ actually mean something. I get it at first but as the pub gets more and more crowded and fuller of fervor and I become more and more unhappy that I am here.
It’s like this all over Portland and Dallas and god knows where else, this crazed energy and attention towards shit that does. not. matter.
I have to get out of here and I can see rain hitting the window as I clear my plate. For reasons I’m making up but don’t understand, it makes sense that the weather is going to shit when I want to leave, so I figure why not take advantage and get to the gone.
When I open the door to leave, hail is pelting the asphalt.
Perfect. Because why not?
My skin gets soaked, the wind blows raindrops off the brim of my hat onto my cheeks and I realize why I’m getting angrier and angrier.
This is what they cheer for. Not Bradley Manning’s transfer, not against GE’s greed.
The Blazers-a team they have no personal interactions or connections with, nor a game they are actually playing-winning a game. The world as this group knows it is collapsing and they cheer for proxies instead of themselves. Loudly, with a zeal that makes it impossible to think or interact with anything that isn’t a game happening thousands of miles away.
We are more willing to see ourselves in sports heroes than victims and I want to be anywhere but here.