Attempting to bleed purple

My colleagues kindly informed me on Friday that I apparently live in a bubble. Everyone was wearing Ravens jerseys to work, so in a department meeting I asked, "Is there a game today?"

You've never seen heads swivel around so quickly. "Is there a GAME today? Are you serious? Haven't you noticed the city lit up in purple?" 

Yikers. Friday had been deemed "Purple Friday" or something by the city in honor of the Ravens vs. Titans game on Saturday. I hadn't turned on the TV in days, I listen to a DC radio station, and I don't know two things about the Ravens, so I was clueless. (I'd be a great jury member if a team member was on trial).

So on Saturday, Joe and I attempted to be pro-Ravens by heading to Cross Street for a hearty beer and pre-game celebration. We settled on Ryleigh's, probably the yuppiest bar on the street. Shocker. But they had TVs set to sports, which was all the qualification we needed. At 2:30, no one was out pre-gaming yet. What?!

I got a Blue Moon (I like my beer like water), and Joe got something actually substantial. I am the slowest beer drinker ever because it makes me feel so full and gross. By the time I actually finished my glass, the beer was warm. Ew. I must have been more efficient in college.

I got the ham and grilled cheese sandwich that's layered with sliced apples. Why didn't I ever think of adding apples to a grilled cheese sandwich? The tart apples were the perfect contrast to the cheese and the saltiness of the ham. Joe got a regular old burger for a regular old guy drinking a regular old beer at a local bar. It was exactly what he was going for :)

We had stalled all we could stand by 4:00, which is precisely when the rest of Baltimore showed up for the 4:15 kick-off. We were "those guys" who asked for the check and walked out of the bar as the Ravens stormed the Titan's field. Oh well. We tried. And the Ravens won without us.