My ears perked up. I’ve generally volunteered for just about any task since I’ve been here. I wondered what adventure this next task would hold.
“Do you want an extra ticket to the Red Sox/Yankees game?”
Minutes later Ben, Ben, and I were on the T headed to Fenway Park. We entered Gate C amongst throngs of people. We were jostled up to our bleacher seats, squeezing in among the other Kerry campaigners. Everyone was in high spirits. We were at Fenway Park – simply magic.
R. sat to the right of me. Every time a fellow staffer walked by he shouted their name. “Bruno! My man! What’s up, Bruno?” “Margaret! Hey, buy me a beer, babe. I’ll pay you back.” “Tom in the house!” Will you just watch the game?
His cell phones (yes, plural) rang no less than a dozen times in the first inning. After one of the calls he turned to me. “I am so getting some ass tonight.” I thought I must have heard wrong. “Everyone calls me. Everyone wants into the parties. They say, ‘Hey, R., can you get me into this party?’ and I say, ‘Are you putting out tonight? Yeah, I’ll see about those tickets.” I simply stared.
Outrageous conversations continued until the top of the 8th, when he mysteriously left without saying good-bye to anyone.