EluciDATE

Today I found myself in a most foreign environment: le Sports Bar.

A little joint in the valley (yes, I know, a harrowing experience in and of itself) called "The Draft". We stopped by this place for a beer and nosh after moving my friend from the sanctity of the westside to the armpit of Los Angeles. Upon entering this cafeteria of carousal, I was immediately drawn to the stereotypicality of the guy/girl couples populating the place. Girlfriends dressed in 'baby tees' of their team of choice. Usually matching colored shoes or miscellaneous accessories accompanied their faux jersey. Wearing jeans that were too tight, or skirts that were too short with curled up or purposely straightened hair. They were clustered together in girl support teams while their men folk were running amok. Dressed in oversized jerseys of their favorite players or well WELL worn t-shirts/sweatshirts drenched in logos. The guys were stationed in homoerotic viewing pods where slapping hands, arms, chests, asses etc were acceptable because of the shared enthusiasm over their team's victories.

Now, I'm not saying watching sports on TV is stupid. Lot's of people are crazygonuts over different sporting events all over the world. It brings cities together, countries even. But there's just something about watching sports that divides the sexes. There are countless women who get into football/baseball/basketball/soccer what have you just as adamantly as any man--but it's rare to have a group of men and women really celebrating their team together. At super bowl parties--women are still in the kitchen, men at the grill. At the sports bars, women group together and find other things to talk about in and around the sporting action. Men spend the majority of their time engrossed in the action or talking about the game or other games/players/plays during commercials or timeouts. And this sports bar, The Draft, was no exception.

So I'm sitting in this crowded hole-in-the-wall drinking a dollar draft of Bud Light out of a plastic cup, trying to beat down the PTSD of my days as a cocktail waitress at Chili's during March Madness, when a commercial for Jared's Jewelry comes on during a break. The piece of junk jewlery they were advertising was as tacky and terrible as they come. Some kind of charm bracelet nightmare with little silver bobbles interspersed with letter blocks and colored beads. "$99.99" special or something along those lines. I shook my head wondering who the hell would buy that for their wife/girlfriend/mother. Then there was a commercial about used cars and another about the show coming on after the game. After those was a commercial for Kay Jeweler. This time for a gaudy necklace with a silver looped diamond mess. It was received by a mom looking all surprised and taken aback by the thoughtfulness of the husband, when really it was the kids that orchestrated the whole debacle. (Thanks for nothin, Peanut gallery) Again, I found myself thinking, "Who BUYS that crap? Do chics really fall for those gags?" Just as that thought bubble was popping, a commercial for Edible Arrangements came on talking about how sending chocolates was a thing of the past--and like a ton a bricks it hit me: VALENTINE'S DAY MASSACRE 2010.

Like in a dream, I slowly lowered my Dixie cup of light beer. All at once I was blinded by the refracted light from the rhinestoned necklaces, bedazzled Laker's baby t's, bling rings, and costume jewelry all around me. Those terrible charm bracelets were hanging off numerous wrists, heart shaped yellow gold pendants with tiny diamond chips dangled from necks in every corner of the room. I was sitting in a cesspool of the target demographic for Valentine's Day crappy pap. I marveled at how well it all seemed to work together. How "normal" this was for this group of people. It made sense, it was practically cut and dry. And for whatever reason, a strange calm fell over me knowing that the majority of these gals will love getting that chintzy jewelry for the worst Hallmark holiday on the calendar, and that the men who give it to them will fully expect a blow job and a beer for it.