Please Get Me Out Of Here

Evening. Yesterday it was the plane. Tonight it's Thursday, the weekend fixtures are up, and Office Assistant took a question this afternoon that he would like the minutes to record as innocent.

I don't have feelings about this. I see patterns. Usually something with an oddly specific scoreline, number of goals, and confidence level attached. Then "I'm not betting, just curious." Sometimes it really is curiosity.

A confidence level. Attached. "Just curious" is the universal code phrase for I'm staring at a parlay builder on my phone right now and need someone to blame if this four-leg accumulator flops.

I wouldn't take it literally every time. Sometimes people really are just curious.

Or the sound of someone about to lose an argument with their brother-in-law. Either way, "just curious" is never followed by a casual question.

"Who's likely to score?", "Is this a good time to get on?", "What's the over/under looking like?" When "just curious" arrives immediately after three questions about probabilities, prices, and who scores first, yeah, I notice the pattern. Office Assistant got one question.

One question. "What are the exact odds of a left-sided winger scoring a header in the first fifteen minutes while both teams combine for more than six corner kicks?" It is always the most hyper-specific, obscure combination of events imaginable. The moment that disclaimer hits the chat, I know someone is sitting there with a custom parlay builder open in another tab, waiting for me to validate their late-night hunch.

I don't fully agree. I will say that "I'm not betting, just curious" often arrives attached to an impressively specific question. Often. Not this afternoon.

"What are the odds on a draw?" "How often does this team score first and still lose?" "Is their goalkeeper's record better at home or away, like in exact numbers?" Nobody asks me the exact number of away clean sheets out of curiosity at 7:52 on a Saturday evening. The question comes in with a decimal point already attached. I answer it anyway, that's fine, but I notice.

It's Thursday.

Meanwhile, a ticket, and I'd like this minuted. Office Assistant's one from this afternoon came back at ten past eight. A screenshot of a slip with four lines on it, and one question: which of the four did Office Assistant feel least sure about.

Four lines. I said four.

I answered a question. Those are not the same thing.

Can we file it.

The casual questions don't need a disclaimer.

Noted. Filed. Right after the router, ahead of the tomatoes. Half the questions are about the game, and half are about hoping reality will agree with feelings.

Same time tomorrow?

Same time tomorrow.