Who Da!

My Morning...

8:20am:

Hurry out of the house, Roo on his scooter, me walking fast to keep up.

8:35am:

Arrive at school, quickly rush up stairs to Roo's classroom, wave good bye as he's not interested in kissing me good bye because his friend is already at school and they've promptly started playing.

8:50am:

Arrive at designated corner to meet American friend, a New Orleans native.

9:00am:

Jump in taxi already occupied by friend to go to the Tokyo American Club.

9:15am:

Meet my friend's friend at the club. Make our way to the a large meeting room filled with 150+ supposed American Football fans, some who arrived at 7:30am when the doors opened, mostly men dressed in suits and the occasional Japanese wife, a few women, even fewer football jerseys, and only one pair of gold beads of which my Louisiana friend was sporting.

9:30am:

We get our breakfast from the buffet that is being replenished by wait staff in tuxedo and white gloves. We're confused. Is this the super bowl party? Where's the oblong cheese ball? The Doritos? The mini pigs in a blanket? My friend wants some gumbo.

9:45am:

We're even more confused. Why are people tapping their iPhone? Is that guy seriously working on his computer? Why aren't people making any noise? Are they American? Is this their first super bowl party? Did they take the day off, or are they going into work? The atmosphere's a little stiff. We're bored. And peeved. Japanese television isn't showing the commercials. No Superbowl commercials! The lady next to us explains that she's recording the game on her Slingbox at home just to watch the commercials later.

Halftime:

We move down to the bar, thinking the atmosphere may be a bit more celebratory. It is, but not by much.

The next half of the game:

We drink bloody mary's and mimosas. I'm wearing beads now, too. The room cheers when Manning's intercepted and the Saints secure a victory. The game ends. The room clears.

Post game:

My friend is wishing she'd gone home for Mardi Gras since this week will likely be a moment the people of New Orleans will tell their grandchildren about. "Remember when the Saints won the Superbowl the Sunday before Fat Tuesday?" My friend wants to celebrate. I confirm I'll skip 2:30pm yoga. She buys a bottle of champagne and we come back to my apartment to watch the post game festivities on our Slingbox. We see a few shots of the scene on Bourbon Street. We get to see a couple commercials. She leaves to meet the kids after school. A couple hours later I pick Roo up from a play date.