I’m a girl in the wrong city for the 2013 Stanley Cup Playoffs. And so begins the period of time where I become a recluse in the city of Boston and refuse to speak to those wearing yellow and black.
My boyfriend and I will have to sleep in separate rooms, for fear than I may maul him in my sleep.
I will become increasingly superstitious, and begin to do and say things that no one understands – and I will not apologize for them.
My increasingly desperate need for deep dish pizza and a six-pack of Goose Island’s 312 will fuel my ability to trash talk, but disable my ability to sleep.
All games will be watched in safe places, such as my apartment or a private hospital room. Not because I fear the wrath of Bruins fans, but because they should fear me. I can’t promise that I won’t accidentally break a bottle on the bar and politely hold it to your throat until you agree that Patrick Kane’s hat trick in Game 5 of the WCF blew your mind. Just admit that you’re afraid it will happen to you.
I will consider spending an obscene amount of money on Playoff tickets at the Garden only to pretend I don’t see the handsome man standing next to me in Bruins gear. Not only that, but I will consider purchasing a plane ticket to watch the games at the United Center with my own people.
I will feel the need to create memes, such as this one: