As non-football fans, my husband and I enjoy Superbowl Sunday. Streets are empty, shops are quiet and it’s easy to find a seat in the movie theater.
One memorable year (football fans will probably remember which year it was, I don’t), we strolled down the middle of Route 123 in downtown McLean, Virginia with not a car in sight.
But it has its downside. Last year, we went out to dinner, only to find that the restaurant decided to close on the spur of the moment due to lack of customers.
Last night we wanted pizza, and we discovered that there was a new sit-down pizza place nearby. I called them. Yes, they were open. Yes, they did have a couple of small televisions, but the sound would be off (the last thing your Superbowl-avoider wants is to wind up in a sports bar with a gazillion large screen TVs going at full blast).
As promised, there were two small televisions, but the volume was on. On one of them, the volume was up to the point where my husband and I couldn’t comfortably carry on a conversation. There were no other customers. I asked the server if she would turn down the TV. Her face twisted. She hesitated. “Normally we have them on mute,” she said, “but with the big game, the staff want to be able to…”
“Maybe the staff need their own TV,” I suggested.
“Oh, no, then they wouldn’t get any work done!”
She agreed to turn it down, but I could tell it pained her. We ate and paid as fast as possible, and went across the street to Baskin-Robbins for dessert, as I’m sure they wanted me out of their Superbowl as fast as possible.