I’m at my part time job at a movie rental store, and this guy brings his movies up to check out. He has a British accent. So of course, my overly curious personality can’t resist asking him where’s he’s from. His response is Manchester. (Bloody hell…) I tell him how I love of football and wonder where his allegiances lie, crossing my fingers for City or possibly a lower league side. Much to my dismay, but not surprisingly, his response is Manchester United. He asks if I know them. (Huh? If I have already professed my love for football, obviously I know Manchester United, only the most popular club in the world, with the most punchable fans.) My response can only be, “Unfortunately. I’m a Chelsea supporter.” Then he says something that’s so astonishingly witty and British, I almost piss myself.
“Yeah, I think they make stationary that says that.”... Seriously? Do they? Where can I buy some?
Haw very Manc of him. Don’t get me wrong, I had my doubts when Mourinho left and “The Special One” was replaced by The Toad,” but at this very moment, I have never been more impressed and proud of my team. (Yes, MY team.) Maybe it’s because it’s always more fun to cheer for the underdogs, because when they win it feels that much more miraculous. I actually feel bad for Manchester United fans. There can be no miracles, only disappointments. (And having to stare at the mugs of Rooney and Tevez on the telly week in and week out can’t help either.)
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