Superbowl J.J.

It occurred to me today that I don't know if J.J. Dufresne likes football. I know the following things about J.J.:

1. He likes cats
2. He likes beer
3. He likes a glass of milk with his pancakes
4. He likes pretty girls
5. He likes baseball (an awful lot)

But I have no clue if J.J. Dufresne likes football, or if he was even remotely interested in last night's game, which I watched with my father, who was only half-interested. Today I wondered what J.J. did with himself last night. Did he sit home with Marvin the Cat and drink some beer? Did he go to a party thrown by some of his old-time friends? Did he eat as much pizza as I did? Did he yell You're fucking kidding me! at the TV screen? Did he go to bed early? Did he like the commercial that featured the talking monkeys? Or how about that one with the crabs? I bet he liked the one where the girls in tank tops sprayed each other with fizzy things: pop, champagne, and beer.

This is the way I like to picture it: There's J.J. He's in his apartment, and he's got a case of beer at his feet. He is balancing both Marvin and a beer on his stomach. He's got them angled so he can see through them, so he has a unobstructed view of the television.

A few of J.J.'s friends are over, too. They're in the corner. They've brought food. After all, they are charmingly Midwestern and they know the rules: don't show up empty-handed. They brought with them two bags of Doritos and a bottle of ranch dip. They are eating the Doritos out of the bag, but J.J. put the ranch dip in a bowl that has previously served as Marvin's water bowl. It's been washed, though.

I think the boys are rooting for Chicago, because that seems like the thing Minnesota boys would do when left to choose between Indianapolis and Chicago. They are very excited by the opening kickoff return. They make manly comments and grunt. Marvin twitches his nose when they grunt, because they are deep grunts that come from the stomach, which interrupts his resting spot.

When Chicago loses and the beer is gone, the boys talk about the commercials in a witty way. They make comments about the girls' breasts in the Go Daddy commercial. They say mean things about Kevin Federline. Then, because it's a Sunday night and J.J. has to go to work tomorrow morning, because he has to defend the American--and, more specifically, the Minnesotan--way of life, his friends leave early so J.J. can take out his contacts and feed Marvin and crank up the laptop for one more look at porn before he goes to bed, where he will dream about girls who wrestle in vats of ranch dressing, girls who call out J.J.! We love you! all through the night.