The Old, Fat Man Finds a Better Game

It was Super Bowl Sunday, and I found a seat at my usual Panamanian sports bar.

The talking heads above my head were speaking Spanish and I looked for the manager. The manager spoke perfect English and had a name I could never remember. I think it was Dan, but it might have been Dave. He was now across the room talking to a corner table and I waited for him to turn around. The 49ers were on the field about to receive the kickoff.


This guy Dan maybe Dave would do anything for me and one of the things I always asked him was to change the tv coverage from Spanish to English.

My hand was halfway up waiting for my chance to flag him down, and then this other guy shows up out of nowhere.

He says, “Stop looking at my girlfriend.”

I said, “Excuse me?”

"Stop looking at my girlfriend, and stop looking at me. ”

I say, “Who’s your girlfriend?”

He points at a girl sitting alone at a table behind him. She’s facing an empty chair. I can see Dan/Dave over her head in the distance.

“I said, “That girl?”

His eyes are a milky-rosé and they’re not backing down.

“You think I’m staring at the back of your girlfriend’s head?”

He’s doesn't move. He looks young and strong, and I look old and fat.

I say, “Seriously pal, who the hell stares at the back of a woman’s head?”

He returns to his seat. He had no alternative. Young strong guys can’t punch old fat guys. They’d look like assholes. Old fat guys know this well.

I didn't care about the football game after that. It was in Spanish, and I couldn't seem to tear my eyes from the back of the girlfriend’s head.