Last Sunday I had the rare opportunity to attend an NFL game as a fan.

I had forgotten how expensive it is — and how difficult it can be.

The expense part comes first with the purchase of tickets. Even though I bought a pair of nosebleed seats to the Panthers-Falcons matchup at Bank of America Stadium, the price exceeded triple digits.

And that was before the “convenience charge” I had to pay for ordering online.

Turns out it was convenient only for the people who print the tickets. To be honest I was a little put out by it.

And once at the game there are concessions to buy. A personal pan pizza is $7, while a large soda is $4.75.

It’s kinda like going to the movies. Unless you gorge yourself beforehand, you’re going to pay a 400 percent markup on virtually everything you ingest once you get inside.

And did I mention the nosebleed seats? I’m not kidding.

With the exception of that one time I had the flu and took a double dose of NyQuil, I’ve never been that high.

Even my significant other, who walks every day and prides herself on being in good shape, was practically crawling by the time we got to our seats. I’m pretty sure we were about 1,000 feet above U.S. air space.

Had it rained it really wouldn’t have affected us because we had to look down to see the clouds.

Speaking of which, the weather forecast called for a temperature of 81 at kickoff, but it was 147 degrees easy, with humidity right around 200 percent.

This poor lady sitting a couple of rows in front of me had obviously had some plastic surgery done because her face and chest had completely melted by the end of the first quarter.

And of course when you go to a game as a fan you’re going to have to deal with drunks, and there were several to choose from.

My “favorite” was a woman who sat behind us, adorned in a boa and a large hat shaped like a Panther. I’m guessing her liquid tailgating began, oh, around 1974.

I admit it was fascinating to watch her make the long, treacherous walk up those long, treacherous steps, swaying from side to side and eyes glazed over. Amazingly, the giant draft beers she held in either hand never lost a drop as she stepped over me and plopped into her seat.

She screamed and yelled a lot. After the game actually started, she screamed and yelled some more.

Thankfully after guzzling her cold ones she decided to head back to the concession stands, presumably in search of more beer.

We never saw her again. I assume she forgot where she was sitting and wandered somewhere else — possibly the Georgia Dome.

All in all it was still a fun day, with Carolina taking a 24-9 victory.

And I look forward to being a fan again this Sunday — from the comfort of my own home.