A Kick to the Keystones
Who feels worse about today's NFL results, me or Al
? Steelers gift Atlanta with three turnovers inside the 30-yard line and then commit three more bonehead mistakes to seal their fate. And then the Iggles give Tampa two touchdowns outright, come back, take the lead with 30 seconds left, and then have to just sit there as a 62-yard figgie beats them. Steelers can probably afford to lose one more game if they want to make the playoffs (maybe two if they get some help) and maybe they'd have a chance if they weren't so hell-bent on beating themselves.
In all my line-dance fury the other night, I forgot perhaps the most, uh, interesting event of the evening. The night was winding down, my group was talking about heading out, and there was a scuffle on the dance floor. Bouncers grabbed up a few guys and a big mass of humanity started staggering to the door. It was hard to tell who was a bouncer and who was a bouncee, and as they passed us one of the uniformed cops who was standing at the door came over. He pointed his penlight at the group, and I don't know what he saw that he didn't like, but he pulled out his automatic and leveled it at the chest of one of the guys. Who was about 10 feet from me. The cop looked very, very serious, which I guess is the right attitude when you have a Glock aimed at someone's thorax. I think it was a Glock.
I sort of herded my group against the bar and out of the line of fire, which we were smack dab in the middle of. Had things gotten a bit more heated, I might've had to make a visit to the dry cleaners, if you get my drift. But as is the case in all situations, a gun made everything better, and the struggle came to an end.
Got a roast simmering in the Crock Pot, the flat smells...good. Really good. Pity that I had ribs and a very good burger at Mark's while watching the game. Stuffed to the gills. Oh, maybe just a tiny taste...