the Subway Series series: Part 2 – ¡Buen viaje!

by santoki

Back to Part 1 – The Rant


A couple of weeks ago, I happened upon a few tickets to the Friday and Saturday games of the Subway series. Nothing elicit, I assure you. I was selected as part of the”Second Chance” drawing c/o the Mets site. Lucky me, right? I am allowed up to 6 tickets total, so I am thinking, two for Friday, 4 for Saturday.squishedheads.jpg

It was decided that Friday night would go to my Righteous Ms. Al. As she would be leaving for Bonus Eye Rays the following Monday, we needed serious quality time before her foreign sojourn. With a little revisionist recollection, we were able to rationalize the whole evening as a last brush with Americana.

Americana did not let us down. Hot dogs, beers, and a blast, BABY! We CHAAARGE-ed at the top of our lungs without a hint of irony, begged Mr. Met to shoot swag in our direction, and sang along happily to “Enter Sandman” when Billy Wagner took the field (heck of an entry,BTW).almets.jpg

My Righteous Ms. Al described the game, and I am paraphrasing here, as “really boring, and then really interesting.” She wasn’t wrong. I think that the Mets are kind of goofy like that. When it looks like a game is an easy win, maybe they start getting lazy. Maybe they think it’s fun to give themselves a challenge. Maybe it’s to get the crowd back into the game. Maybe because they like sliding around in the rain. I can’t tell. In any case, when time begins to run short, it’s back to business they go. The bidness, that is, of kicking some serious bot-tom.

After cheering my Mets to a very soggy victory, we hopped on the 7 train, and it was back into the city for us. As many of you know, riding the subway is always an adventure. Early in our ride, we were gently accosted by a few drunken frat boys who were asking our opinion on the politics of a booty call. Then, on the tails of that conversation, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

The tapping person asked, “Is that girl’s name Amy?” I said yes, though he might swear that I said no. Any who, turns out that this guy knew my Righteous Ms. Al from her days as a co-ed. Did I mention that this was on the subway. In New York. CITY. Serendipity aside, the dude was a tool. Long story short, we all went out for a few drinks, he bored and annoyed me to tears, and we sent him a-packin.

In fact, we sent ourselves a-packin, as we needed to high-tail it to the Jerse for a diner run. We rushed to Penn Station, where I took this picture. Other than the person my Righteous Ms. Al is speaking with, a sloppy kiss to the first person who can tell me what else is wrong with this picture!


Part 3 – The Mets, the NYPD, and the inconsistency of pocket pals…