The Greatest Party Ever

Truth be known, my favorite team is the 49ers, but not today. Today I am a Rams fanatic! Today, I wear a blue sweatshirt with Rams written in large yellow letters. Everyone here has a favorite team, and it just happens to be either the Los Angeles Rams or the Cincinnati Bangles. Half of us wear something with Rams written on it, a logo, something LA-ish. The others are in Bangles jerseys and Bagels hats. One guy has face paint of black and yellow stripes on a slant across his face. I think his name is Wally. I’ve seen him before.

There is a long leather couch and three matching chairs in the room. I am holding a can of Coca-Cola and sitting in the middle of the couch between a handsome black guy wearing a bangles jersey and a pretty Asian girl wearing a tight-fitting Bangles tee-shirt. They too are drinking Cokes. The three of us have yet to say one word to each other, but the girl has playfully punched me in the arm six times in the last half hour. The first couple of punches were too soft. Then the next one was too hard. I think the last time she got it right. Each time she punched me, she laughed, and I laughed and everyone in the room laughed. We were having a great time, perhaps the most wonderful time of our Gen Y lives, but now is The Moment, the game-deciding extra point and it is seconds away. The mood in the room has changed drastically.

Two handsome young white guys in Bangle paraphernalia are standing behind the couch. They lean forward with their hands gripping the top edge, totally engrossed in the coming play. Their hair looks freshly cut, and they both hold beaded Coca-Cola bottles in their hands. They are focused on the television. Everyone is. We all lean slightly forward, riveted to the tv. Nobody is smiling now. Nobody seems to be breathing. We are silent. The blond girl in the lefthand chair has her hands in prayer position in front of her face.

There is a coffee table in front of us with chips and dip, several cans of coke sparkling with icy cold condensation, and two large bowls of popcorn, but we are all way too involved to think about food at this moment. Twelve seconds shows on the scoreboard clock.

And the lights go out.

I’m thinking Power outage, but the director has yelled “Cut!” and we all sit back and relax.

“Wonderful job, people!” the director shouts. He is clapping his hands and smiling. “Stay in your places, stay in your places! The next shot is the grand celebration, okay? This is the party of the year, right?”

“What if we hate football?” someone calls out and we all laugh.

“That’s right, That’s good! I want laughter and hugs and big, big smiles! Everybody’s happy, right?”

All the actors start to move their heads around their necks to loosen up. They wiggle their arms. Faces are being dabbed hurriedly make-up assistants. Hairdos are being slightly corrected.

This next scene is vital to whether our commercial goes on during the halftime show or not. I have my doubts. In my opinion, the best commercial is always the Budweiser one.

I turn to the girl next to me and start to rehearse our hug, but she’ll have none of it. She actually punches me in the shoulder again. The hardest punch yet. I guess I’ll be hugging the guy on the other side of me.

“Okay, folks, now in this scene where you all suddenly leap to your feet and cheer! I want high-fives and hugs and big, big, big smiles! Remember, you are all best friends. You’ve known each other forever! We’re going to air this in two weeks during halftime.


Why, when half of the cast is supposed to be for the other team we are all equally happy with the ending, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because everything goes better with Coke.

-708 Words-