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2002-08-21
2:07 p.m.
The strangest thing happened last night. For once in my life, something good happened, and I was nearly knocked out from the surprise because, believe it or not, I don’t think I know how to respond to good things happening.
About twenty minutes before I was supposed to leave work yesterday, a woman in my office e-mailed everyone saying she had some tickets to the Red Sox game, and she needed to get rid of them. Now, not only were these free tickets to a baseball game, but these were free tickets in the 600 Club. 600 Club tickets are the kind of tickets that are so expensive they don’t even list the prices on the website.
Knowing that Rob would be interested in any sporting event, I called him briefly to check if he was available, and, as soon as he said yes, I e-mailed the lady back to tell her that I’d take the tickets. She came down to my cube a few minutes later with the tickets, a free VIP reserved-space garage parking pass, and a copy of the dress code for the club. Within a few minutes, I was on the bus on my way home from work to dress up for the baseball game.
Generally, people dress down from work to go to a baseball game, don’t they?
In any case, Rob and I were soon on our way to the ballgame, and I spent most of the way there concerning myself with whether or not they were going to let me drink or not (remembering, of course, the Weezer concert incident). Well, apparently, the 600 Club people are special enough that there’s no two-drink limit like in the rest of the park, and they didn’t even ID. The bartender remembered what I was drinking (Bass) from the very first drink, and I barely had to say anything for him to get me a new one whenever I wished.
I don’t believe I’ve ever had an experience quite like the one yesterday. I felt rich and privileged, even more so than the once when I accidentally got bumped up to first class on a flight. It was unbelievable. Who would’ve known that Fenway Park even HAD a glass-enclosed, air-conditioned, full-service bar and viewing area with a buffet, free popcorn, free Red Sox magazines, and everything else that could possibly make baseball more interesting.
It was awesome.
In a way, I almost feel like this was somehow an accident, like Rob and I were really not supposed to end up with such wonderful tickets with a perfect view of the entire field from high about home plate. We had a flawless view of the centerfielder as he tried to catch a ball but instead landed on his head - an event that appears on the front page of the sports section in today’s Boston Globe. Everything was perfect.
What happened?
These things don’t happen to people like Rob and myself. I ran into someone I used to work with at my first job after college and realized that I never expected to be in the same class as people like him, as he was so upper-class and corporate. Granted, I never wanted to be upper-class or corporate, but it’s always good to feel as though I’m not at a distinct disadvantage.
And it was definitely nice to talk to him and come across as though I’m doing better than I really am.
