We arrive at the Huskies game an hour early.  I meet Matt in the massive E-1 parking lot, next to the porta-potties.  From there, we embark on a wild ride starting with a quest for cheap eats.

11:30 — We set out from the stanky toilets and begin our adventure.  Wandering through hordes of college students, University of Washington alumni, and goons decked in Oregon garb, we encounter a former Garfield student, class of ’09.  “I woke up with a .075!” she exclaims.  We knew this would be a good day. 

12:00 — We spot a nice Huskies fan making his way through the throngs, brandishing a fried, severed duck head.  He quickly sees a group of Duck fans, and waves the head in their faces.  Hoping for increased hubbub, Matt and I briskly stride toward the situation, only to be met by a trivia war between the two sides.  Not our thang. 

12:15 — We’ve gotten pretty hungry at this point, and everybody is grilling.  We attempt to weasel our way into the frat tents for free barbeque, but are quickly spotted and kicked out.  During our exit, we spot a guy tending his grill none too closely.  Seven sizzling, succulent sausages sit roasting on a barbeque in his trunk.  We contemplate, “How difficult would it be to just pluck a couple?”  However, we remember that this is immoral and teachers and parents alike will be reading our article.  Instead, we approach the man.

“What are the chances we can get a hot dog for a buck?” Matt asks.

The guy asks his buddy for advice.

His friend, clearly smashed, uttered a few garbled tones, incomprehensible to us mere mortals.  His pal, however, nodded in agreement.  He served up a couple of Polish dogs, accompanied by hamburger buns.  Not exactly what we were hoping for, but for a dollar each, it was totally worth it.  Our hunger sated, it was time to actually go to the game. 

12:35 — We reach our seats directly after the national anthem.  Perfect timing.   

1:10 — Okay, time for some actual athletics.  We have just endured two of the most frustrating football minutes of my life.  With the Huskies leading 3 – 0, punter Will Mahan lined up to kick.  After the ball was snapped, an Oregon Duck flew through the middle untouched, blocked the punt, and dove on it in the end zone for a touchdown.  Even worse, they ran a freaking fake field goal to earn a two-point conversion.  Let’s establish something — there is absolutely no reason to go for two at the beginning of the game, to get ahead 8 — 3.  In football, the difference between 7 — 3 and 8 — 3 is miniscule.  It was just a douchey mindgame Oregon Coach Chip Kelly was trying to play with Washington.

1:45 — Our attention is waning; the game is quickly sliding down the hill, it’s almost halftime, and we’re behind.  Luckily, the guys in front of us are extremely entertaining.  Four people are sitting together, three of them guys, but one made the mistake of bringing his wife.  The married guy has been missing for at least ten minutes now, and his friends have commenced hitting on his wife.  Creepily.  I have season tickets in these seats, and every single game there have been different people sitting in those seats, hitting on different women.  One time there was a high school counselor from Tacoma hitting on coeds.  Hella creepy. 

2:00 — Halftime.  We’re still hungry, and go to the concession stand.  We pay a total of $14 for four hot dogs, and they weren’t remotely as good as our parking lot one.  Go figure.

3:15 – The game is, for all intensive purposes, over.  We’re behind by A LOT.  I don’t even know the score.  The people in front of us have stopped paying attention and have resorted to making poop jokes.  It’s time to leave. 
So we make our way back the way we came, this time wandering through the desolate parking lot alone, no barbeque in sight.