Super Bowl XLVII: I went. I saw. I Faked a Mugging.

My old company was infamous for incentives, most of which were all expense paid trips to various places all over the world. In order to land yourself on an incentive trip you had to sell a shit ton of software, do something great or have freckles. Which is how I got myself an all expense paid trip to the Super Bowl in New Orleans last year. (Kidding – I earned it because I had the most influenced margin in a quarter – a cool million from ONE CAMPAIGN.) Like a boss..

The trip was for myself and a guest. My sales team presented me with the trip and I was SO EXCITED! They all made fun of me because apparently my reaction was similar to that of an annoying beauty queen, except I’m not pretty <– their words, not mine.

I was so excited! They told me I had to tell them who I was bringing as my guest within the hour because they needed to book the plane tickets ASAP, as the game was only a week away. At the time, I had still been wasting time with Nintendo No Friendo so he was first on my call log.

He was clearly too busy gaming and/or reading his latest manual on how to build weapons for the zombie apocalypse out of household goods, because he didn’t answer my call. (<– not kidding, that book not only exists, but he in fact owns and reads it. He brought it the bar once).

Soo the guy you’ve been boning is ignoring your call and you have an all expense paid trip for two to the freaking Super Bowl – I’m fairly confident I could have gotten any man to go on this trip with me. Game.On.

Ha. Yeah right – I took my Dad. I mean, unless you’re married or in a serious relationship, who ELSE would you take!? My Dad has ALWAYS been there for me. Moved me into every apartment, paid for me to go to college, CREATED ME. He even taught my sisters and I how to dance.

I mean you don’t get a better Dad than Heavy D.

He was SO PUMPED when I called him and told him I was taking him to the Super Bowl. I’m fairly confident he told everyone in our town and may have even taken an ad in the newspaper. It made me happy that he was so excited and proud of me.

We got down to New Orleans, checked into the hotel and immediately went to Bourbon St. I had been to New Orleans a few times so knew my way around and wanted to show my Dad the city. For those of you that don’t know my Dad – he can hang.

We started taking shots at the first bar we got to – from there, we got 40’s of Bud heavy’s at the gas station since you can walk around with open containers and proceeded to try every drink known to man down the entire strip. By 10:30PM, I was so drunk I had already thrown up ON a bar and we had been asked to leave.

My Dad told me to man up and that we weren’t going home until he got to either ride one of the horses the Cops were on or throw beads from a random balcony.

About an hour after that I somehow managed to lose my cell phone and demanded to be brought back to the hotel. Like any normal girl on vacation with her Dad, I immediately opened up my iPad and blasted all over facebook that I had been mugged.

I passed out as soon as I posted it. I woke up in the morning to a million facebook posts and my Dad had all of these missed calls and voicemails from my mother. He didn’t even know how to text message since he had a flip phone – what are you, Dad, a freakin time traveler?! I didn’t even know they still made flip phones.

So yeah, I faked a mugging.

The trip went on and we had a blast – I took my Dad all over the city and we had a great time. The Super Bowl was even better – we walked to the stadium in the morning, bloody mary’s in hand and hit up all the tailgates. The tailgates were unreal because they weren’t put on by people, but sponsors like Budweiser, Grey Goose, Miller Light, Bacardi, etc. and had all these insane performers.

Then the game started and I just wanted it to be half time so I could see Beyonce.

Then the power outage happened, which we literally didn’t even notice. People obviously assumed that I had somehow caused the black out at the Super Bowl since I was there and am an idiot. But I didn’t.

We went out on Bourbon St after, and I obviously puked in the street a couple of times and fell asleep on a table, but lasted until about 3am, then my Dad dropped me back off at the hotel and went out to the casino.

Getting to the airport on Monday morning was miserable. I’ve never seen so many people in one place. Like so many people trying to make their flights, all hungover as shit, that security didn’t even make you take your shoes off or put your bags through the scanner. I’m pretty sure that’s illegal but I was so hungover I didn’t even care.

The sales manager that also won the incentive had a much rougher trip than I, however, especially while departing..

While waiting to board our flight I noticed he was swaying a bit and getting a little green. I asked if he felt alright, to which his only response was to spew what looked like infant vomit all over the people in front of us. He tried to run to the bathroom and cover his mouth but it only made it worse – he continued to run while chunky white liquid spewed through his fingers and splattered all over the floor.

I obviously started laughing uncontrollably while continuing to crush the bacon egg and cheese I had gotten from Dunkies. Our Dad’s pretended like they didn’t know us.

You couldn’t pay me to go to the Super Bowl this year in Jersey – that shit is going to be FREEZING. Though Phillip Phillips is opening and since he has the face of an angel and his voice sounds like rainbows, my love for him would keep me warm for sure.

Long story short – Super Bowl XLVII was awesome, and I’m officially my Dad’s favorite daughter.


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