Monday, January 5, 2009


I think before I get into this post, I need to clarify a couple things.

1) I am a football nut. I live for Thursdays, Saturdays, and Sundays from September through February. I was a manager for the football team in college. I work at a football themed museum. I. Love. Football.

2) My football themed museum will host about twelve wedding receptions and rehearsal dinners a year. It is my job to sell my football themed museum to such couples; especially the brides.

Alrighty --

About a month ago a woman and her fiancĂ© came into my football themed museum for a site visit. I did my thing and pitched my awesome facility to this wonderful couple. The wife was a gorgeous, tall, busty blonde and the husband was decked out in his alma mater’s gear – and he looked very, VERY familiar. Now during these visits I try to concentrate on the bride to be as they are the ones I really need to convince it is okay to have a wedding reception at a football museum. However, I could not get over the fact that the husband to be looked so damn familiar.

A couple weeks later, the couple decides to book their reception here for a spring wedding. I contract with them and realize that the gentleman’s name is familiar as well. This nags at me for a couple more weeks.

Approximately twenty-three minutes ago one of my co-workers walks in and asks me, “So Allen Pinkett is having his wedding here?” I reply with, “Yes... Why does that matter? Do you know him or something?” Then it clicks; Allen freakinPinkett. I pitched, booked, and contracted a wedding reception for this man – and I was clueless as to who he really was until just now. That would be like Lance Briggs walking in and my oblivious ass mumbling commentary on “that huge guy who’s been loitering in the gift shop.” I have effin’ worked in the football world for over three years now AND I watch it religiously. How could I have missed this?

I feel like SUCH an idiot. And a terrible self-proclaimed football nut.