About once a year, I go to a Mariners baseball game. They suck, I know. But for me, it’s more about the event. I enjoy being in a ball park with the crowd, And with my team, we’ve all been waiting ‘til next year for over 20 years.
Tickets and so forth aren’t cheap. So I end up getting 300 level seats. Still, it’s about the day and I’m fine with that. Last year, for example, I got to the ball park early and watched BP. As the crowd filtered in, I thought I saw my old college room mate come in, down at the 100 field level. “Gosh, that looks like Steve. I haven’t seen him in 30 years. He’s done well for himself if he has a box seat down lowwwww”, I thought.
So I stood up and yelled “Hey Steve!”. There was no response from down low. Oh well. Game time. About the second inning, it was still bugging me that the guy was indeed Steve. So again, I yelled (more loudly this time) “HEY Steve!!!”. Again, no response and the people around me gave me dirty looks.
It was a pretty bad game (typical for my team) and some of the crowd was leaving early. As the crowd thinned out a little, I tried once more (full volume now) “HEY STEEEEEVE!!!: The guy I thought was Steve this time responded. He turned around and yelled back “I’m not Steve!!!!”
An Army driver was chauffeur to a major who was a notorious womanizer.
One day, the major saw a lovely girl walk by.
“Turn the car around,” he ordered.
The driver promptly stalled the car. By the time he got it restarted,
the girl had vanished around the corner.
“Driver,” barked the major, “you’d be useless in an emergency.”
“I thought I did pretty well,” the driver said.
“That was my girlfriend.”
Is that supposed to be an empty ballpark joke?