I went to my first NBA game, held at the Delta Center where the Jazz beat the Hawkes 110-97. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t much different from college games that I’ve seen. In fact, the magic show during halftime was the most entertaining event of the night. In spite of my mild disappointment, it was still fun and I’m glad I got to go. Besides, the tickets were free so I don’t have anything to complain about, but if I had paid $65 I would be feeling gypped right about now. Speaking of getting gypped, a $5 jumbo hot dog topped with sauerkraut comes to mind.

In other news, a trip to the men’s restroom during halftime led to an accusation at the urinal. Let me explain. The urinals each had about 6 inches between them and there were no dividers so you ended up brushing elbows with the guys on either side. The porcelain jutted out from the wall like a drinking fountain, so there wasn’t much you could do to keep things private. They were all in use when I arrived, but one soon became available.

The next thing I know the guy on my right announces that he is suffering from stage fright. Looking over at me, he says he can’t go because I was peeking at his, ahem, manhood and he had to wait for me to leave. Regarding the alleged wandering eyes, nothing could be farther from the truth. In fact, I was concentrating so intently on the wall in front of me that a hole had formed in the wall tile. He left soon after his announcement and I finished, washed my hands and left as well but after further consideration I believe the reason it was so weird is because he wasn’t following urinal etiquette.