Rained Out

As the clock neared "quittin time" yesterday, I was hurriedly asked by a coworker if I wanted to go to Atlanta to see the Braves play the Mets. Of course I wanted to! What's the catch? We leave now! I hurried home, changed clothes, fed Jenny, and left to meet Bob and Jay. Wow, Bob, Jay, and Dan- so monosyllabic.

We drove through a little rain on the way, but continued to think dry thoughts. We parked on what looked like a fifteen foot cliff. As we started toward Turner field, so did the rain. It wasn't terribly violent, just steady and wet. Bob and I were utterly ill prepared; so we needed to procure a poncho if we were to endure nine innings of this weather. We found an indoor souvenir shop and headed for the door.

"Sorry", said the twenty-something woman at the door. "Only five people in at a time."

Ok, I could understand that. They knew it was raining and that people wanted someplace dry to stand. They didn't want hordes of tomohawk chopping rednecks stampeding through the store. There was no cover directly outside the door to the store, so I went about twenty feet away to stand under some cover. I turn back only to see Jay and Bob waltz on in to the store.

"What the?"

So I walked back over there, pulled the door op-"sorry, only five at a time." She interrupted not only my train of thought, but my whole life at that moment. Despite the cold rain, i could feel the mercury rising. I walked back to the covered area. I stood for a few seconds and realized I was still getting wet. Looking back at the door, I watched about seven people walk in. Ok, this is rediculous. I lowered my horns, scraped my feet along the ground, blew smoke out of my nostrils and headed for the door one more time.

"I'm sorry!" She was denying me again. This seemed to be all she could say. Where's Ashton, because I think I'm getting punked. This was insane! I watched people file in, only to get shot down every time I tried.

Let's be honest, i'm not good at being mean to strangers. I showed some frustration, but didn't get outright mean. The FOURTH time she let me in, only after joking with me first. I was in no mood.

As we shuffled around in the souvenir shop looking for ponchos, an announcement came on over the speakers and the televisions. The game had been postponed. Rained out. In other words, "I'm sorry." There would be no baseball this night. We went to a pub and had dinner instead. In honor of the baseball game we didn't get to see, I got a bratwurst and some onion rings. (sigh) It just wasn't the same.