Go-fight-win!

Note to self: Don't ever wear UNLV hoodie to a hospital.

Apparently, not only is my UNLV sweater warm and awesome... it also attracts old men.
Annoying, man.

I let the first one slide.
Actually, the first comment directed at me thanks to my sweater amused me.

I was riding down the elevator when this adorable old man in a wheelchair and his huge (as in, many of them) family crammed into the elevator where it was only me and Little Sister.
As this old man's grand kid pushed the wheelchair into the elevator, the old man saw my sweater and in this sort of weak voice said "UNLV?? Booo!"
I had to smile... the man was just too cute (he reminded me of the late Pat Morita).
The man's older sons apologized to me... I just shook my head like "nah, no problem."
Then they started talking about how awesome Apocalypto is.

...OK?? Is it ok if I start talking about the awesomeness of Mr. Miyagi?

I was cool with that elevator ride... even if it was with an old man who apparently hates my university (I guess I didn't take offense because I can't wait to get the hell out).
Then came the second man who got in my face because of my sweater.

Once again, I was in the elevator, but this time I was going up to Dad's room.
Some guy that looked like a hardcore NASCAR fan in his mid-40's rushed into the elevator, looked me straight in the eye and screamed "UNLV!! YEAHHH!!"

???
O...k...

I'll admit, I kind of feared for my life at that instant and tensed up.
I was ready to knee the shit out of anyone in that fifteen second ride to Dad's room.

Then came the last old man that got in my face.

I was walking out of the hospital (at least I wasn't in the damn elevator this time) and walking past the cafeteria when some dude that was hidden from my view thanks to a Christmas tree screamed "U-N-L-V!"
For a second I wondered if maybe I knew this booming voice...
Then I wondered why the fuck nurses don't get more in the faces of nimrods who think it's a great idea to be hollering down the lobby of a hospital.
I stopped to see if maybe the moron was my cousin or some distant uncle since so many seem to be running around the place (the hospital staff finds it funny how so many folks come see my dad. I believe one time they refered to us as a "wedding party" because it was 12 of us waiting around... but what can you do? We're Latinos, we're supposed to do that).
It wasn't.
It was some huge, robust man in his late thirties with a goatee that sort of looked like a fat (pardon me, I mean, ROBUST) Brett Favre. RBF gave me the... what is it... "heavy metal" sign? when I looked over at him.

I won't wear this sweater anymore.
I believe Wednesday will be my last time sporting the sweater... it will never see the light of day after that Molecular final is done and over with.