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Single A ball in the middle of nowhere. Now that's America!
Gabe and I drove off the map as we dared to venture into the Inland Empire. Though seemingly not much of an Empire we dare not taunt it for fear of a hostile take over of our less organized/unified ocean front anti-empire sprawl.
So instead of causing civil warfare we payed homage to this great Mariners minor league squad against the hated Lake Elsinor Storm. Turns out Tuesday night is two for one ticket and pizza night. Yes for a total of $16 Gabe and I both had two pizzas and sets in the third row behind home plate (1 ticket and two pizzas=$8, for you math gurus).
Were we the only people who drove more than 10 miles to attend this game...? Probably.
Did the foul pole's advertise Sharon's Corn with a seven-digit number there following so one could order from the ball park? Would I make that up?
Did I get a ball? You bet your ass I did!
All and all the game was HIGHLY entertaining. It was incredibly quiet and relaxing, you could easily razzle the players by being noisy, and singing "Sweet Caroline" while acting the song out with song gestures much to the delight (dismay) of Gabe and the other 66'ers fan will go on my personal highlight reel.
As I said to Gabe, "Let's make a memory." And we did...
Completely unrelated is a short story I began work on the other day... Here is the beginning:
Table for One
"He could stand to use a shower," I thought as I watched him pass through the window. He didn't pass through the window, it was the window through which I watched. He passed, I watched, the window between us. I hope that clears things up.
I don't often dine alone. I always see old men eating alone at restaurants. They usually don't wear wedding rings. I wonder if they were ever married. I mean if you never marry and you work hard all your life you can afford to eat every meal out. But then again if you marry and your spouse dies, often their life insurance and estate will be a boost to your income also allowing for you to afford to dine in restaurants regularly.
Today I was dining alone. I was in a strange town where I only knew one fella and he wasn't answering his phone. People don't answer their phones these days. Why do we even bother having them everywhere if people are still unreachable? Maybe to feel like we're not living alone. Well for this moment, I was choosing to live and dine alone.
About 10 minutes ago I turned my phone off as I entered an off-beat restaurant. They claimed to have the best BBQ and jamaican food this side of the Missisippi. I felt that this was a strong claim what with Kansas City and all of Texas to compete with, but perhaps they were claiming that they were the best combo restaurant this side of the mighty river. Well that may very well be true. I have never seen a BBQ and Jamaican combo restaurant before.
At first I thought I might get carry out but I thought better of it. Sandwiches and salads are just fine to take home, but BBQ will lose a little something if thrown into a container and driven for half an hour back to the big city. Besides the waitress had a nice smile and a curious but unthreatening tattoo on the back of her neck that seemed to exude a friendly and slightly sexual aura. I work with someone named Aura. Those thoughts remain virtually unrelated.
When I sat down I was not only dining alone at my table, I was the only one dining in the place.