Sunday, September 03, 2006

All Of My Hipster Friends Can Fuck Themselves

I used to be cool.

Well, I once passed for cool. If the observer didn't pay too close attention, maybe squinted. Sort of.

I knew where the cool bars and clubs were. I managed to get strange men to buy me drinks and take me nice places. Then I met J, who was just as poor and broke as me. We got married, bought a house and never had fun again.

It is important to understand this so that y'all can understand our motivation for Thursday night. We had free bleacher seats for the local minor league baseball team. Free seats, free parking, cheap eats. That equals AB family fun right there.

We sat with a bunch of people J knows from work. Six adults, 847 children. I think I am the only one in the group that watched more than about half an inning of the game. I give this team credit, they had a bunch of activities for kids. They could play a game where they tried to catch a fly ball (and won a prize, whether they did it or not). They could jump around in a huge balloon bouncy thing. They could run around the bases. They sang Take Me Out To The Ball Game during the seventh inning stretch.

At some point during the game J got up to go to the bathroom and to get us some drinks. Forty minutes later I have to admit I wondered what happened to him. The little girl that had been spending her time poking him in the stomach and laughing was FRANTIC that he might not return.

He did show up, sodas in hand, but sweating, shaking and bleeding from one knee. Apparently every child in the group had attacked him at once and he was FORCED to play with them. He described it as being caught in a Ooompa Loompa civil war. Looking at him, I am not sure it was an exaggeration.

I have to admit that I am thrilled he has found playmates who are on his intellectual level. Even if they are ages 2-6.

We left the game much past our bedtime on a school night and were awarded a loaf of wheat bread from some sort of promotion. Which is how I ended running down the main drag of the city being chased by a man hitting me with a loaf of bread.

That isn't actually cool is it?

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