Last Game of the Year

I didn't post yesterday. I had to get a mammogram and go to a baseball game. It was a weird day. My husband and I met some friends at the ballpark. Since it was our last game of the year, we decided to treat ourselves to something delicious in addition to our customary hot dog. My original intention was to get some garlic fries but on my way down to the food court (It was a long way down - we were in the sherpa-assist seats), I changed my mind.

Garlic fries look and smell wonderful but I was distracted by a nacho-like creation a guy was holding in his lap down near the base camp. It looked like it might come from the Mexican food cart that had intrigued me before we began the ascent to our seats. When I reached the bottom, I went out into the food zone and sniffed around for a minute. Then I made a beeline for the Mexican food cart.


The nacho-like thing was sitting there on the counter behind a display window. Eloquently, I pointed and said "What's that?" The guy said "Nachos borracho." I fired back "Can I get some of that?" "Pork or chicken?" he asked. "Chicken." I burbled through a mouth full of saliva. He put chips in a container, dumped gooey jack cheese sauce on them then piled on mounds of shredded chicken then more sauce. "There's salsa" he pointed as he handed me the nachos. "Mar this work of art with a vegetable?" I thought. I had gone from zero to Neanderthal in about three minutes.


All of a sudden I remembered there was a baseball game going on. I grunted "Thanks" and headed back to climb to my seat. My husband was receptive to the change in menu. We slurped and slobbered our way through the nachos and when we finished tossed our trash under the seat where it joined the hot dog detritus. We were not at all tidy.


I grabbed my binocs and decided to check the doin's in the dugout. The Giants were in there eating sunflower seeds and spitting shells all over the ground. Drinking water and throwing their cups on the floor. Scratching, high fiving, slapping each others' butts, and no doubt grunting whenever the occasion arose.

Maybe it was the sea air, or the garlic wafting on the breeze. Maybe the whole team had nachos barracho for dinner. Maybe its just a baseball thing - everybody turned into a Neanderthal at the ballpark! It was gooey and gross, but it was fun. I'm gonna miss baseball. Its so much more fun than a mammogram but just as necessary!