Your worst winter story: Bootleggers, Lambeau Field, and a drunk Packers fan
Our Worst Winter Story series continues this week with a tale of New Year's Eve failure, frostbite, and a run-in with a drunk Packers fan.
Got a story you'd like to submit? You can send us your tale of winter wackness to [email protected]. Stories that run will be in consideration for a prize at the end of the series.
'Twas New Years Eve, so I decided to pay $60 for one of those all-you-can-drink tickets at the now defunct Bootleggers in downtown Minneapolis. After an evening filled with sketchy service, sketchy people, and sketchy drinks, I made an early solo exit. After all, I was leaving for Green Bay at 7 a.m. the next day to watch a game against the Packers.
Somehow, a typical $10 cab ride turned into a $30 fare due to "high demand." After a passionate argument regarding best business practices, I threw the driver $20 and told him he was a terrible person at best.
When I arrived at my front door, I noticed that my house keys were not in my pocket. Rather, they were in the backseat of the aforementioned cab as it quickly disappeared down the street.
Just like that, I was locked out of my house on a night when the windchill reached -20 degrees. Nobody was home to let me in. Desperate phone calls for rides went unanswered, and cab service was delayed due to "high demand." Perfect.
With no other alternatives, I faced the elements, staggered one mile to the nearest gas station, and waited for a cab. When it arrived, my ears were swollen, as they had succumbed to frostbite. Thankfully, a friend finally answered his phone and by 3 a.m., so I had warm place to crash.
At 6 a.m. the next morning, a roommate picked me up so I could catch my ride to Green Bay. As I walked toward the car, I abruptly hit a patch of ice. Of course, both hands were in my pockets so I could not brace the ensuing fall. End result? Bruised tailbone. Possible concussion.
Fast forward to the game at Lambeau Field. It's half time, and I return to my seat to find an inebriated fan in my spot. After politely asking him to leave, he complies. But not before he sucker punches me in the face. My face was now covered in blood, and I had a swollen/crooked nose to pair with my swollen/frostbit ears. At least the perpetrator ended up in cuffs.
In its entirety, this winter experience left me battered, bruised, and bitter. On the bright side, there was one less Packer fan roaming the streets. So maybe it wasn't so bad after all.
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