Posted by: mrtweeds | December 2, 2008

an open letter

sunset-in-boston

*note to the average blog reader: william was kind enough to invite me along to a recent celtics game, take me out to a nice dinner, and spring for a hotel room for the night. aw yeah. since we (okay, i) don’t get many dates like this i do like to enjoy them as much as possible. usually this is as easy as a slice of thanksgiving pie (and that’s real easy, trust me), but this trip…well, we had the unique experience of meeting a very special lady, and since i didn’t think it was the right time or place to talk to her at the celtics game, i am taking this opportunity to post an open letter to her here. i can only hope she comes across my lowly little blog and reads it.

celtics

dear woman in section 3, row 5, seats 1-9(ish),

hi. you probably don’t remember me, but i was in the row in front of you. yeah, it’s me. you kicked me in the back before the game started, remember? no worries, that’s cool. you apologized. we were all good. these things happen.

it was obviously your first game, so i can understand your excitement. i don’t get to go to many of these things myself, and to be honest, i am not the basketball wizard that pretty much everyone around us was. so that’s why i’m stepping up and writing you this note: i figure it will be easier to handle coming from the average person, as opposed to the average boston sports fan.

a note about seating: on your ticket there’s a section number, a row number, and a seat number. you got the section all right, and i do applaud you for that. these things can get confusing. but the rest of it-the row and seat? those things are labeled pretty clearly once you know what to look for (numbers on the floor and chairs) that’s pretty much where you should sit. like i said, i know it’s confusing, but it’s kind of necessary. and to be fair, the people who designed the garden really did intend the floor to be seen from every seat, not just from a select few. so when you’re moving from seat to seat arguing with your husband over where you should sit because you can see “everything” from one seat but not the one next to it, you’re pretty much lying. and everyone around you knows it, because they’re sitting in seats in the exact same position, just up or down a few rows.

i’m just sayin’.

and as far as the game itself is concerned, here’s a little secret: if a player misses a foul shot in the first quarter…it’s really not a big deal. especially when they’re ahead. so there’s really no reason to loudly proclaim “OH NOOOOOO!” every time it happens. because it will happen. really. it took me awhile to figure this out, and i want to share this knowledge with you. it seems only right.

and while we’re on the subject, loudly proclaiming (again) within the first minute and a half of play that the home team was going to “have a rough time” of it and that “i HOPE they’re ahead by halftime!”-this is also not really necessary, especially when they are playing a team other than the l.a. lakers. actually, this is especially important if they are playing the l.a. lakers. because i’m pretty sure most boston fans fully expect you to bleed green if asked in that case, let alone quell any doubt of their win.

but like i said, i know you were excited and this was probably your first game.

but if you don’t mind me saying, when you started raving (to your obviously uninterested preteen son who kept insisting “yeah, i got it. I GOT IT!”) about the salad from some concession stand (where? where did you find salad in the garden during a sporting event?) you got and how fresh it was, how amazing the lettuce was, and how you couldn’t eat the cheese because it had cholesterol and how you can’t eat cheese or ham because the cholesterol was too bad…yeah, um, that’s…that’s not really what people do at these types of things. and the single serving bottle of wine? kiiiind of not okay.

and i’m not just saying that because you dropped lettuce down my back. although, if i may, i probably wouldn’t have said anything at all if you’d spilled beer down my back. because that’s the type of thing you dress to expect at these things.

but what i really want to talk to you about, what i really want to address, is the “discussion” you had with your daughter during halftime, during the third quarter-pretty much from the end of the first half on. and i want to start out by letting you know that i understand that teenagers can be difficult. i taught high school english; i know. i do. but here’s the thing-when you start arguing in the middle of a crowd and unless their looking the people around you can’t tell which person is the adult and which the pre-teen? that’s not really a good sign. and, if i may, her argument was waaaaay stronger. like, for real.

and while i understand that it can be frustrating when she didn’t tell your friend on the phone exactly where you were, i’m thinking that she was telling the truth when she said she was trying to do you a favor by not telling them that you were…”indisposed”. see? she was even too polite to talk about it in the middle of a basketball game.

and when you start freaking out and insisting that you must sit two seats away from her, no matter where she chooses to sit? well, that would have been okay had you not repeatedly moved from seat to seat, whacking people in the back of the head with your purse, yelling this loudly.

i’m just going to go ahead and tell you that you pretty much turned everyone against you at that point.

although to your credit, you did finish it off nicely when you informed your daughter that you hoped she got kidnapped before you stalked off (hitting me in the back of the head with your purse on the way out, of course).

now i know that it had been “five hours of hell” since you had apparently picked your daughter up from boarding school, but i’m thinking maybe boarding school and a possible kidnapping by a kindly psychiatrist might be sort of okay in this case?

also (and i don’t mean to drag this out), when you storm back in five minutes later yelling “don’t follow me! DO NOT FOLLOW ME!!!!”- well, i don’t know how to say this, but no one was following you. not your daughter, not your son, not your husband. certainly no one in the crowd around you. in fact, they all seemed to be enjoying the game without you. i know the majority of us breathed a deep sigh of relief when you left. perhaps your family were in fact crying silently into their hot dogs and sodas, i can’t say, but i do know for a fact that they did not follow you.

and they didn’t try to follow you when, after sitting back with them for a few minutes, you got disgusted with their lack of reaction and huffed down to the poor unfortunate soul sitting next to an empty seat a few rows down and sat next to him, your purse sticking in his face and general personal space for the rest of the game.

so, dear lady who was sitting in section 303, row 5, seats 1-9(ish), i hope this letter cleared a few things up for you. i hope you had a lovely thanksgiving and i hope your family did the same. because i’m kind of wondering if they’ll visit this place if they didn’t:

we-sell-guns

thank-you

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Responses

  1. Love that first picture!


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