KAMA - The Sports Bar

Last night I went to a Sports Bar. The likelihood of this happening is akin to me saying "last night I flew to france" or "last night I participated in a competitive roller derby."

Up until now my general understanding of sports bars has been that they are bars with lots of TVs, filled with men and women who desire to watch sports and purchase beer in a commemorative plastic cup displaying the name of their favorite sports team. Boy, was I wrong.

Sports Bars are magical wonderlands filled with men who want to talk to you and hear what you have to say. I know, I know, you thought such places only existed in romance novels. And it's not just some men who want to talk to you, all the men in a sports bar will have a conversation with you at some point. They bring up contemporary issues and want to know what you think about these issues. For example: Dude: "Did you just see that pass?" Me: "What pass? You mean on TV?" Dude: "Don't you think McKnabb is going elsewhere next year?" Me: "Who's McKnabb? You mean like on a vacation? I think France would be a fun place to visit." As you can see, I was on fire last night.

At first, I was shocked. I have not had that kind of open conversation with so many men in a bar in a long time (read: ever). Then, it suddenly made sense. Usually in a bar, guys need some kind of approach to go up to women and women are always ready to deflect unwanted attention. And even if step one occurs, it's hard to keep up a conversation with a total stranger. And this is why Sports Bars are magical. Men can come up to you and say "Go Eagles!" or "Can I have some of those steak nachos?" without it feeling like they're hitting on you. And if they want to keep talking, there are no shortage of conversation topics: why everyone hates Dallas, or why Tony Romo only likes blondes. These conversations can last for hours and the awkward "so what do you do?" conversations go by the wayside.

I didn't tell anyone that I was a lawyer, nor did I have the "I work in immigration" conversation which more often than not ends with me having to listen to someone else's ideas of "what we should do with the illegal immigrants in the country." Thanks to my experience at the Sports Bar, I was able to talk to all kinds of fun, interesting men. I was also able to offer my opinions: "People probably hate the Cowboys because it's so hot in Texas," and "I think McKnabb should play for the Bears because he's from Chicago and his family is here and he should be close to his family." Strangely enough, no one asked for my phone number.