Monday, July 23, 2007

Training Ball over the Shirt off my Back

Strange doings over the past week or so. Most of the time was spent downtown, either at work or at Dodger Stadium for dinner and a show. What great shows they were. Even the ones lost were very close, or offensive see-saw battles. Except for one, but I didn't really expect for them to win six in a row. Most of the season it was hard to win three in the row, so five was a treat! Have been spending a lot of time in a new circle in the club overlooking the game. Have gotten to know more about A, his wife L, their daughter J, and heard about son M more in the last week than I ever knew before. They even sat at the window with me and bought a few of my meals. How cool is that? It was hard for them to let me pay for anything, but I was able to grab the check a time or two. See, they didn't have to sit in their hot seats during day games, nor sit at the bar only to cool off, they could sit down by the glass and watch a panoramic view of the game in air conditioned comfort. Of course we could have all stayed at home, but it's the company we keep that helps to define us. During the night games, as I would enter and leave, a woman commented that she liked my dodger shirt. It was not my favorite one, and instead of smiling and thanking her, I just commented that it was the browniest one I own, and hurried out the door down to my seat. I should have stayed and talked, and if I had been thinking, I would have. I haven't bantered longer than a few minutes with a woman in months, and here was one willing to risk a comment. It might even be the one that wanted to buy my shirt the week before.
Wait, I need to explain that one. I'm sitting at the stadium club bar finishing my last beer about twenty minutes after a Tuesday night game some time back. A couple of blonds were on my left and during the eighth and ninth innings were surrounded by a half dozen yokels having a grand time. When the game ended, the gaggle left the place leaving the two of them alone to joke with the bartenders. When one of them quizzed about them no longer being surrounded, she responded that now she could pay all of her attention on him. I thought I only muttered 'lucky you' but he wheeled and said that it could be on you Proto. Now knowing my name she and her sister ask about the baseball I was semi-juggling. I told them that it was an 'official training ball' that I caught during batting practice, and showed them the stamp saying so. The younger one asked what I was going to do with it. I answered that I would put it on a shelf with twenty or so others, until a nephew or niece came over and wanted to play catch. I don't think I have that many, but I said it anyways. The elder then commented that she like my shirt and offered to buy it from me. She started saying that the style of shirt I was wearing was no longer for sale in the stadium stores. It was, for over two years, why didn't she get one then? After pondering that one out loud, I mentioned that my rates were not reasonable and the bidding would have to start over one hundred dollars. After saying that she didn't like the brownish ones that were on sale now, she then remarked that she knew I had another shirt underneath, and started counting with twenty, then thirty, and finally fifty. I shook my head at each offer and they packed up and started to leave. As they went to pass me towards the exit, I extended the training ball and offered that to her.
"For me?"
"yes."
"really? a present"
"absolutely, I have plenty."
With a girlish grin she skips off with her new toy after her younger partner, and I get a warm feeling of proving that there are nice guys in the world. Even if they won't sell their blue and white Hawaiian pattern Dodger shirts off their backs to them.
That was a long explanation, but it helped me remember it.
The Dodgers are away until the thirty first of July, so maybe I'll gamble a little this next weekend, and catch up on the hamsters in big blunder 8, too. Neither of which will improve my conversation skills, yet they entertain me.

1 comment:

Nadine Hightower said...

Slap! Slap! Wake up Man! A Woman talked to you and you walked away to watch baseball....Where are your priorities!!!