We went to see the Rangers play last week (or maybe it was the week before). We borrowed Hub's parents' car so that we could take advantage of the complimentary Lexus valet, and his friend had free extra tickets for his company's suite, so it was quite the economical evening. I pulled my spoiled rump off the cooling seats long enough to check my ticket and have my bag searched and immediately rode up the elevator to the air conditioned, food and beverage-stocked suite. To me, these things in combination make baseball considerably more enjoyable. I have absolutely no nostalgic, romantic notions about the cheap seats or peanuts or cracker jacks or whatever. I prefer an ice cold, limed Corona and a seat inside, thank you. And I wouldn't mind leaving around the 7th inning or so. Judge away.
I did not eat this food b/c we'd just had dinner at home (the mussels actually), but I did indulge in a very private and gluttonous moment with a monstrous ice cream Sundae. Caramel!
Here's Hub & Co. squabbling over correct, non-injurous workout methods or the exact wording of a Groundskeeper Willie quote or whether the term "sports dork" is an oxymoron or something equally inane and sure to make me pay more attention to the game.
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