Go Giants

He called and invited me to the game. Then uninvited me. Then invited me again.

I laughed as I met him by the Willie Mays statue. “It’s so good to see you! Thanks for the invitation, sort of…”

We entered the box seats. We screamed as the Giants led, 6-1. “Spank them, baby, spank them,” I screamed. He laughed. “I think you’re mixing your metaphors…”

She and I went to the bathroom. She headed towards an unmarked door. “Hey, is that the right way? Are you sure that’s the women’s?” “The worst thing we’ll see is a few penises….” and we entered, the back way into the women’s restroom.

“Hey! It’s the top of the 7th inning. We need to go get another beer before they stop selling them.” I bounded towards the concession stand. He said, “Hey, let’s go to the bathroom first, then we’ll buy beers.” “Good plan,” I countered.

We went our separate ways, meeting up a mere minute later at the concession stand. “Sorry, he’s our last customer. It’s the top of the 8th.” Huh? We only were gone less than a minute. How could this be? The man in front of me said, “No, no, no, I said two beers, not one. Two beers.” She poured him another then he handed it to me. Sometimes it’s nice being a girl in tight blue jeans and red cowboy boots.

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