is “bat shit stupid” a thing? (a flashback)

tonight was game five of the ice bats playoffs (chl hockey) here in austin. i know, i know…hockey in texas, what the fuck? well, don’t think the folks in power have gotten their priorities out of whack. see, here in austin they play hockey in a rodeo arena (yes…WITH ice)

but then comes march.

for the chl, that means the playoffs. for the county of travis (who own the building the bats play in) that means rodeo time. and with the exception of high school football or your mama’s funeral (listed in order to most of the locals), ain’t nothing gonna take priority over a rodeo in texas. so right before the playoffs, the bats have a shitload of away games. and then due to the rodeo and their much publicized rent issues with the county, the first bit of the semifinals had to be held at a local ice rink, so all the seating was general admission. then some how, some way, for the finals they got the county to let them back in the hizouse.

however, since the season ticket holders had paid for g/a tickets at chaparral ice (the aforementioned rink) they had to make the BIG games g/a as well. and that’s where it got interesting.

now, before i go any further, my readers DO know that “g/a” on a ticket means “general admission”, right? as in Give my Ass the money, and Get your Ass inside. well, this is where the typically scary drunken redneck hockey crowd got scarier.

as i was walking through before i left, i stopped to talk to one of the security folk; an off-duty apd detective. and she told me she had had over a DOZEN people come up to her and ask her where section g/a was.

i did not believe her. until i witnessed it.

“dude…”, the mulletted individual approaching me began, “i found section na, and section sa, and section aa…but where’s section G/a?”

i just stared at him. i waited for the inevitable laughter, followed by, “just kidding…”

it never came.

i swear i must have stared at this yahoo for a straight minute, not saying a word, waiting for it to snap in his head what he had just asked me. okay, with that hair, that facial hair (ever seen the movie joe dirt? picture that, but tall and fat) and that wardrobe, surely you must have some sense or you would have died courtesy of a buddy’s hunting rifle, or a monster truck run amuck, or an unmentionable spot-welding accident when your nuts got cold at work, right? you can’t be THIS ignorant, can you?

yep.

so, i told him, “man…it’s general admission…you can sit anywhere you want”. and he replied, “yeah…that what the other usher told me; and it’s cool i can sit anywhere in the section and all, i just need to know where section g/a IS so i can sit anywhere in it…”

this is where the law got involved (the cute lil’ blonde detective next to me); and she said, “sir…you can sit anywhere in the BUILDING”. he asked, “are you sure? i don’t wanna get an usher pissed off.” i fired back, “dude…ushers have flashlights, she’s got a fucking GUN…go with what she says.” he admitted i was right, and wandered off. i collapsed on the cops shoulder for a moment in hysterics and then got the hell outta dodge…

you never know if that level of dumb-ass is contagious, right?