Game Day Sweatshirt

Here I am, scrunched up on the floor in the backseat of an Uber with a footprint on my back. Dismissed and forgotten. It’s my worst fear realized.

As a side note, what’s up with these floor mats? I smell vomit. That ‘tropical citrus’ air freshener isn’t doing this Honda Civic any favors.

Is that gum? This Uber gets one star!

Not even an hour ago I was riding high on the shoulders of a Caps fan cheering Ovechkin’s game winning goal. It was glorious.

Now look at me!

It all started because Mark brought a date to the game. Her thin cardigan was no match for the frigid temperatures of Capital One Arena. Of course, she got cold and guess who saved the day. Mr. Officially Licensed Men's Washington Capitals Branded Red Primary Team Logo Fleece Fitted Pullover Hoodie, that’s who!

Sure, my sleeves were a few inches too long for her, but I kept that bitch toasty warm. Boom, chivalry achieved! And those were some nice lady shoulders. Nice tits too. You could say I got to second base. That’s further than Mark did with Kimmy, no Carrie. Cathy? It was something with a C or a K.

She took me off after they left the stadium ‘cause it was like eighty degrees outside. Then she tied me around her waist. Did I mention she also had an ass like a peach?

They both had too much to drink, so they decided to take an Uber home. Then they started a fight right here in the back seat. I don’t know what the fight was about. Not sure they knew either. If I weren’t already red, I’d be turning red with secondhand embarrassment. There’s nothing more awkward than couples arguing in public.

What’s her name threw me on the floor. I think it was a symbolic gesture, like “Keep your lousy sweatshirt!”

She asked the driver to let her out and that was that. Goodbye, Karen or Courtney or Chloe. But then the worst part. The driver pulled up to Mark’s apartment and he just got out. He didn’t even look back.

Maybe he was too distracted by his girl walking out on him to grab me. Or, and this is my cynical side talking, maybe he purposely left me behind because he had no intention of ever wearing me again. It would bring back memories of this terrible day. Bad juju. No laundry detergent can wash that away. Or maybe he just plum forgot.

I’ve gotta calm down. I’ll pray to Saint Anthony. Someone’s gotta find me back here. I hope it’s a Caps fan. Ugh, who am I kidding? Nobody’s gonna want to wear a sweatshirt they found in the backseat of some smelly Uber.

I should stay positive. Maybe the driver will find me after his shift and bring me back to Mark.

He’s picking up another rider.

Hey, hot lips, check me out.

She picks me up off the floor and hands me over to the driver.

All right, now we’re getting somewhere!

I wait impatiently for the driver to drop her off, then take three more riders. It’s getting late.

Come on, St. Anthony, do your stuff!

The driver pulls over for gas. Okay now he’s cleaning out his car. He takes the empty water bottles from under the seat and tosses them in the trash. Six…Seven of them. Guess he likes to stay hydrated. Then he grabs me.

Hey, wait. What are you doing?

He dangles me over the stinky abyss.

Hang on a second, man. You can’t do this to me!

Aaaaaaahhhh!