I don't know how football is played, it's been explained to me, I've forgotten, it's been explained again, I've forgotten again—it's almost like I don't care! I find it exasperating how all the players keep running into each other; if they would just get out of each other's way, they would each be more successful, seems like. This an old wound, surely; it is a personal deficiency; I don't begrudge everyone else's joy. I am pro-joy. Christ, even The Stranger writes about sports now. I will read Spike Friedman's coverage of the Super Bowl tomorrow, because I love Spike Friedman's writing, but I won't know what he's talking about or whether he's right about this or that, because I won't have watched.

Last year, as I said, I went to Woodinville and watched Saving Mr. Banks and cried. It wasn't even that good, except for Emma Thompson, who is undefeated, and its subject matter, Mary Poppins, and it has a scene where Jason Schwartzman is sitting at a piano composing "Feed the Birds." That's probably when I cried; Schwartzman singing "Feed the Birds." ANYWAY, as much as it pains me to type this, Saving Mr. Banks is not playing in movie theaters anymore. The gayest movie playing tomorrow is The Imitation Game, and I've already seen it twice. All of my gay friends, distressingly, are super into watching the Super Bowl, and scowl whenever I suggest one might not want to. So what should I do? Where shall I go?

A Slog reader wrote in with this very question the other day—and suddenly I felt less alone in the universe:

Howdy Strangers -
You’ve posted a number of Superbowl-related activities recently, but the listicle I really want is where to go to completely avoid the Superbowl entirely. Are any bars or restaurants having anti-football theme nights? Are there any specials on nachos for those of us who don’t just not care about football, but actively hate it? Last year I stayed inside (except when I was outside yelling “go Sounders!” to everybody wearing blue and green). This year I’d like to find a nice place for drinks or dinner full of like-minded football haters. Got any ideas?

I wish I did. I will be home reading Virginia Woolf's diaries. But I told this reader that I would post this letter and see what ideas emerge in the comments. If you hate football and are not watching the Super Bowl, put what you're doing in the comments, please. We have to band together in times like these, us haters. We don't hate the players, or their fans; we hate the game.