Getting the Party Started

The Aggie's company gave him four tickets to a Houston Astros' exhibition game for his birthday. Which happen to be one row up and five seats over from the former President Bush's personal seats. So he – for reasons I'm not entirely sure of – decided to take me and my two girl friends to the game. I don't think I have overstate the quality of these seats. We were so close to the opposing team (the Detroit Tigers) and their dugout that you couldn't really whisper without them turning around to stare at you. And I think you all know that I really don't have and "inside voice." So there were a lot of stares and stink eyes tossed our way. The experience was indescribable. We stayed all nine innings then waited around for the Friday night fireworks display, which was also totally worth it.

Admittedly, three women probably weren't the best companions for a serious baseball watcher such as the Aggie, but I think that even he will admit that we – Momma Pug, Texas Barbie and Jenn – were a lot of fun. (Actually, lets not quiz him on that. We may not have been as funny as we think we are.)

Highlights from the experience are as follows:

Two words -- $20 parking. (There is something to be said for parking across the street from the stadium and NOT watching 10 blocks just for the privlage of climbing 10 stories to your seat. Now that we know how the upper echelon lives, I don't think there's any going back.)

Watching Texas Barbie take away free Astros merchandise from a flock of teenage boys WHILE taking on two phones, straddling a row of stadium chairs AND without wobbling in four-inch stiletto heals. (I think I get the assist on this one though, as I was the one screaming and flailing my arms wildly at the hopes of being thrown a plastic, beanbag in the shape of a baseball that was probably manufactured in Mexico for 12 cents.)

Waving madly at too-hot, too-overpaid baseball players. Most of them thought we were sweaty, insane girls. Apparently Jenn and I didn't perfect what Texas Barbie calls "The Wave." If executed properly, no only do you get to exchange a really nice moment with a professional athlete, you might also ruin their batting game. For the entire game. (Just ask Pudge.)

Fireworks display set to "Deep in the Heart of Texas." (Really, does it get any more Texas than drinking beer, watching things explode in the sky and singly wildly along to an instrumental version of the unofficial Texas anthem? Maybe add some barbeque and some cattle roping and you've got it.)

And, listening to the Aggie scream to the field, "Hey Sheff, you owe me $20 bucks," every time Gary Sheffield went up to bat. Apparently, back when the Aggie was working in Georgia and Sheffield was with the Atlanta Braves, the two made a bet over a boxing match, which Sheffield lost. And stiffed the Aggie on the $20. So every time the dude came to bat, the same thing was yelled. Every. Single. Time.

Seriously. Who wouldn't want to go to a game with us?