(no subject)
This might turn out to have been the perfect week to snap out of my football-induced hibernation and return to the world of Baseball:
The World Series Trophy might possibly be visiting my neighborhood Sox bar.
So very location that just months ago I: watched nearly every Sox playoff game, perspired, drank, and um, otherwise relinquished again the volume of an olympic swimming pool, smoked a carton of cigarettes at least as much to get away from the sweltering heat as to alleviate the stress, was sprayed by champagne and beer in a mock locker room celebration, and was awarded a drunken half-kiss by a stranger in what is still the most romantic thing to happen to me since I moved to New York, could be graced with a presence even greater than mine, the World Series Trophy. There won't even need to be players present for me to know where I'm going to be this Friday.
The World Series Trophy might possibly be visiting my neighborhood Sox bar.
So very location that just months ago I: watched nearly every Sox playoff game, perspired, drank, and um, otherwise relinquished again the volume of an olympic swimming pool, smoked a carton of cigarettes at least as much to get away from the sweltering heat as to alleviate the stress, was sprayed by champagne and beer in a mock locker room celebration, and was awarded a drunken half-kiss by a stranger in what is still the most romantic thing to happen to me since I moved to New York, could be graced with a presence even greater than mine, the World Series Trophy. There won't even need to be players present for me to know where I'm going to be this Friday.