When my neighbor hailed me from across the street Wednesday afternoon to ask "Why aren't you at the game?" I had to pause a moment to figure what she was talking about. (There was a big football game at the Rose Bowl. I could see the blimp in the distance.)
I'm always at a loss to explain the cavernous depth of my disinterest in team sports. For some reason people assume that I'm a big fan.
One late January when a sales clerk mentioned the Super Bowl I told him my favorite thing about Super Bowl Sunday. (It's the best time to take a road trip because the highways are empty.) He looked at me like I had leprosy.