I overheard a brilliant conversation while in the grocery store buying tortillas for my end of the semester party (unlike most of my lame excuses for consuming large quantities of tacos, this was an actual party with actual other people and stuff). The Deli Guy was talking to the Butcher Woman (do you think they call me the Slacker Who Comes In At All Hours And Can't Possibly Have A Real Job . . . Guy?) about the upcoming Patriots vs. Colts AFC Championship. It should be a great game and I'm as excited as any other true blood New Englander that we get to beat Peyton on our way to another Superbowl, but their pre-game analysis left me, pathetically, looking forward to some Joe Buck's meandering, over-wrought diatribes.
DG: It should be a great game. It's always a great game when these two play.
BW: Yeah, it'll be good.
DG: Yeah, it will be good. Unless one of them blows the other out.
BW: Yeah, like you said, it will be a good game unless one of them gets blown out.
DG: Blow outs are no good. But this should be good.
Honest to God, I was frozen with a package of organically grown, all-flour, authentically faux-mexican tortillas in my hand trying to grasp the idea that if I ever wrote such a dialogue from my own head, the verisimilitude of my story would be tarred and feather in some public square.
In all fairness, it is not the job of Shaw's supermarket employees to provide brilliant insights in overheard conversations. And of course, they're right. It should be a good game.
Unless it's a blow out.
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