MOVarazzi

Tuesday, September 4, 2012

841. Baseball People Can Fix Anything

So there we are at a professional baseball game.  We never go because tickets cost, like, a gazillion dollars.  But, The Husband won the lottery of nice co-workers, and one gave him her season tickets for a particular game (today) because she could not go. 

Anyway, the seats are rock star seats.  Okay, maybe not rock star like Rolling Stones rock star, maybe more like Vanilla Ice.  But still.  Quite good seats, front row, right next to the bullpen.    
There I am, taking photos as if it were Christmas, eating junky baseball food, singing baseball songs, pointing out baseballish things to my sons, and basically soaking in all the baseballyness of the situation. 

That’s when I see it. 
The giant screen with the giant message: 

“If anything is impeding your enjoyment of today’s game, please let us know.  Text us at 78345 and provide your seat number.  We will be right over to help.” 
I immediately started tugging at The Husband’s shirt sleeve as if it were made of dollar bills and I wanted some.  “Sweetie!  Sweetie!  Did you see that sign?  What do you think it means?” 

He rolled his eyes (not to worry, I was used to that after 12 years of marriage).  He gave a weary sigh and said, “It means if someone is smoking.  Or swearing loudly.  Or drunk.  Or having a big fight.” 
Aha—he meant if any of his relatives were here with us! 

I tapped his arm again.  “Sweetie, what you are telling me is that all I have to do is text and they will send someone over to fix the problem?” 
“Yep.” 

I was really starting to like baseball a lot more than I initially thought.  Imagine if this nice policy were in place about everything in my life: 
“If anything is impeding you from buying a whole new wardrobe at Nordstrom’s, just text us and we will help.” 

“If anything is impeding you from flying to Paris tonight (first class), text us, and we can assist you.” 
“If anything is impeding you from working out four hours a day with a personal trainer who looks like George Clooney, give a quick text and we will take care of it.” 

I could see why baseball game attendance was up lately—this was the coolest thing ever! 
I decided that my enjoyment was being impeded right now.  Mostly because the sun was shining right in my eyes and I forgot my sunglasses at home. 

I went to reach for my phone to try to text the helpful baseball gods. 
I forgot my phone at home, too. 

MOV
p.s. I tried to text them when I got home later.  My phone does not know how to text.  I might need to text somebody about that.    

9 comments:

  1. Ah, if only that texting deal would work in all situations! How glorious! I can think of a few things I'd like taken care of.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I need to attend games in your town. I have a laundry list of things that could use fixing. They might need a plastic surgeon on staff to get some of it done.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Why work out with a trainer who looks like George Clooney? Work out with George himself. You can get plenty of exercise in bed.

    Love,
    Lola

    ReplyDelete
  4. That is such genius - I hope they start this text-for-assistance program everywhere. I'd have monster trucks ramming cars out of my way in traffic and people bringing me cookies when I'm too lazy to get up, but first - someone to distract my husband while I change the channel off this stupid auto auction show.

    ReplyDelete
  5. I would have been texting and attending baseball games all along if I knew this kind of help was available--please, please get me that number!

    ReplyDelete
  6. Just one of the cool things about going to a baseball game. Now you just need to appear on the big screen yourself!

    ReplyDelete
  7. I love baseball! I didn't know about this though - thanks for tipping me off. Next time my beer gets cold, I'm all over it ;)

    ReplyDelete
  8. I don't trust it. I bet it's a lot like pushing the button for a flight attendant. It takes forever for anyone to arrive, and once they do, they are terribly rude. Nope, no trust here.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. ummmmmmmmmm, you do know I was a flight attendant for 10 years?

      Delete

When you write a comment, it makes me feel like I won the lottery or at the very least like I ate an ice-cream sundae. (This has nothing to do with the fact that I did just eat an ice-cream sundae.)