I don’t know about you, but I’m getting really tired of this blog being a constant update of what I did last weekend . . but I know I say that a lot. That’s why I tried to spice things up with a little call for some fashion advice in the last post. But only three people tried to help. This could mean a few things: 1) You could care less about my new dress (which I can only assume means that you don’t enjoy shopping), 2) You don’t trust your own fashion sense, or 3) You are too lazy to post a comment. I suppose your reason for not posting could be all of the above. In that case, you would be a lazy, unfashionable person who hates shopping. My heart goes out to you. But enough of me giving you a hard time for not posting . . and on to me giving you a life update.
I could tell you everything I did with Alabama Girl last weekend, but to be honest it was primarily spent watching football and reading gossip magazines while lying in our Heavenly Beds at the hotel just two miles from my apartment. I would not be overexaggerating to say that the hours we spent doing just that definitely hit the double digits. It was quite rejuvenating and made it very difficult to return to the twin Ikea bed and an apartment with no flat screen tv.
Friday night was the exception to the above. Alabama Girl had purchased tickets to the Orioles v. Red Sox game at Camden Yards, and I was very excited to enjoy the experience with her. RFK Stadium can’t touch Camden Yards, so it is always well worth a drive to Baltimore. Not to mention that the Orioles are more fun to watch.
So there we are, an hour late – big deal, because if I sat through an entire baseball game, I think I’d shoot myself – and we’re walking up to the gate, tickets in hand. A woman on her cell phone is approaching us, and holding out her tickets at the same time. “No, no, no,” we say. “We already have tickets.” She insists “Trust me, these are good seats”, placing them in Alabama’s hand and walking away. As we continue walking, Alabama gasps “These are suite tickets”. “SHUT! UP!” I say. We both stare at the tickets in our hands and do a quadruple take. The stranger just gave us tickets for a private suite!
Squealing with delight, we are afraid to believe it’s true. Surely there’s been some mistake. But as we’re allowed up the escalator toward the suites, we’re realizing it’s a reality. We walk into the suite, full of people, and soon we see that we didn’t just get suite tickets. We’re sitting behind home plate!
The experience was pretty phenomenal. The food, the view, the . . loss – well ok, the score of the game was pretty bad, but beyond that, it was amazing. Sitting in a box like that each game could really move the sport of baseball up in the ranks for me. We were, not surprisingly, the last ones out of the box, snapping pictures and filling up a box with leftover cookies and sweets . . and using the bathroom of course, you’ve gotta have the full experience.
Undoubtedly the game was the highlight of our weekend and a treat we’ll always remember.