‎"...a little 'trouty', but quite good" ~ Eve Kendall, North By Northwest

Friday, August 31, 2007

Red Sox!

From what I understand, you can only get really really good Red Sox tickets if you inherited a subscription or know someone or know someone who knows someone and happen to be in the right place at the right time. At various times over the years we have been in the right place at the right time, including a couple months ago when we scored the tickets to tonight's game.

Yes, our seats were 11 rows back. Woohoo! Even better, when the Red Sox were at bat the closest player to us was Kevin Millar. Miss you Kevin, please come home soon.

Since we were so close I didn't have to crane and squint to watch the game and could pay attention to other things. Such as the organ music before the game. Chris tells me it's a real live organist and he plays organ versions of Maroon 5, Duran Duran, and others I've since forgotten. I adore organ music -even when it's 80's covers. I also noticed a woman wearing a pair of rhinestone Red Sox earrings. Wow.

Oh, and some kid ran onto the field and was immediately tackled and arrested. Hope it was worth it. And Steven Tyler was there, just on the other side of the dugout from us.

The problem with sitting so close is there's an outside chance that you will end up on national television. I was constantly aware of this possibility and am very relieved to finally take the pleasant look off my face and stop holding in my belly. I have never sat straighter, paid more attention, or more surreptitiously removed mustard from my eyebrows.

We got there ridiculously early and, after checking out all the available food options and saying hello to the Hot Tamale Brass Band, we explored a bit. These are the Green Monster seats and I MUST get there sometime.

I mean, I can't wink and blow kisses at the players from here but there are plates and forks. Very promising.

I picked up the tickets from a friend of a friend ages ago at my birthday party aka Whalefest. The friend said "oh, Supplier X is here (not her real name), you can meet up for those tickets." We go into the tent, he makes the introduction and disappears. I recognize this woman from another party or concert or whatnot and feel a little more at ease. She seems to relax a bit when she sees that it's me and pulls the ticket envelope out of her bag.

"This is great," I say. "Should I just give Mutual Friend (not his real name) the money?"

"You don't have the money?" she asks me. The smile leaves her face and the ticket envelope slips seamlessly back into her bag.

"Well no - I didn't know you'd be here and I only brought enough for scandalously expensive bottled water and maybe a whale t-shirt."

She says she has to go talk to Mutual Friend and vanishes. It is at this point that I feel like I'm in the middle of a drug deal. And really, given what we're paying for these tickets (even at face value) they may as well be contraband.

She comes back and is again smiling. All is well. Mutual Friend has agreed to break our kneecaps guarantee payment. She hands me the ticket envelope and then there I am, walking around with a whale made out of an old milk jug, a page of stickers, a fan with a raccoon on it and two tickets roughly equal to one car payment.

Miraculously, the tickets stayed in our possession all this time and we even remembered to take them with us. Will wonders ever cease. And yes, we paid Mutual Friend for the tickets darn close to immediately, so we may keep our kneecaps.

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