A TRIBAL OBSERVATION
I observed something at a Tribe game this week. I was five rows back from the home team dug-out with a remarkable sightline to the plate. It was a game they would win, by the way, despite a horrifying inning with Kobayashi, but that has little to do with this story.
This story has to do with something I saw in the seats in front of me, my attention inescapable because it was the seats, from my perspective, directly in line with home plate. I had no choice but to pay attention to what I saw because it began as an annoying distraction from the game.
There were two sets of girls: we'll call one set of them Judy and Jane, one ebullient but mildly retarded, the other a pretty Paltrow with an enthusiastic gaze and a noticeable palsy; and well call the other set of them Vicky and Vera, both tipsy and tawdry, dressed for a rowdy Tribe game, half in the bag before they arrive in the third inning, ready to rock and roll, like they might flash their tits for a twenty.
When Vicky and Vera arrived, they immediately caught the common attention of Judy and Jane, in their mid-teens. Judy, the pretty Paltrow, in particular, was captivated by these more mature girls, and wanted to interact with them.
Vicky and Vera arrived alone, and flirted with the Viagra crowd. Judy and Jane sat next to a middle aged couple, their foster parents, perhaps. Vicky and Vera were dressed in predictable Tribe garb, jerseys and shorts that exposed tanned flesh. Judy and Jane wore jerseys as well, but theirs were boyish, clinging to their narrow adolescent frames. Vicky and Vera had outrageously colored their hair. Judy and Jane had obviously spent a lot of time braiding each other's hair for the Tribe game. Vicky and Vera had seen The Virgin Suicides. Judy and Jane had not.
The first interactions of Vicky and Vera, sitting one row ahead of me directly in line with home plate, with Judy and Jane, sitting one row ahead of them directly in line with home plate, were...
A TRIBAL OBSERVATION
I observed something at a Tribe game this week. I was five rows back from the home team dug-out with a remarkable sightline to the plate. It was a game they would win, by the way, despite a horrifying inning with Kobayashi, but that has little to do with this story.
This story has to do with something I saw in the seats in front of me, my attention inescapable because it was the seats, from my perspective, directly in line with home plate. I had no choice but to pay attention to what I saw because it began as an annoying distraction from the game.
There were two sets of girls: we'll call one set of them Judy and Jane, one ebullient but mildly retarded, the other a pretty Paltrow with an enthusiastic gaze and a noticeable palsy; and well call the other set of them Vicky and Vera, both tipsy and tawdry, dressed for a rowdy Tribe game, half in the bag before they arrive in the third inning, ready to rock and roll, like they might flash their tits for a twenty.
When Vicky and Vera arrived, they immediately caught the common attention of Judy and Jane, in their mid-teens. Judy, the pretty Paltrow, in particular, was captivated by these more mature girls, and wanted to interact with them.
Vicky and Vera arrived alone, and flirted with the Viagra crowd. Judy and Jane sat next to a middle aged couple, their foster parents, perhaps. Vicky and Vera were dressed in predictable Tribe garb, jerseys and shorts that exposed tanned flesh. Judy and Jane wore jerseys as well, but theirs were boyish, clinging to their narrow adolescent frames. Vicky and Vera had outrageously colored their hair. Judy and Jane had obviously spent a lot of time braiding each other's hair for the Tribe game. Vicky and Vera had seen The Virgin Suicides. Judy and Jane had not.
The first interactions of Vicky and Vera, sitting one row ahead of me directly in line with home plate, with Judy and Jane, sitting one row ahead of them directly in line with home plate, were uneventful. After Vicky and Vera revealed to their surrounding fans that they were loaded and looking for a good time, Judy and Jane revealed themselves to be excited kids a little too excited for their actual age.
IPOD
RADIO
I observed something at a Tribe game this week. I was five rows back from the home team dug-out with a remarkable sightline to the plate. It was a game they would win, by the way, despite a horrifying inning with Kobayashi, but that has little to do with this story.
This story has to do with something I saw in the seats in front of me, my attention inescapable because it was the seats, from my perspective, directly in line with home plate. I had no choice but to pay attention to what I saw because it began as an annoying distraction from the game.
There were two sets of girls: we'll call one set of them Judy and Jane, one ebullient but mildly retarded, the other a pretty Paltrow with an enthusiastic gaze and a noticeable palsy; and well call the other set of them Vicky and Vera, both tipsy and tawdry, dressed for a rowdy Tribe game, half in the bag before they arrive in the third inning, ready to rock and roll, like they might flash their tits for a twenty.
When Vicky and Vera arrived, they immediately caught the common attention of Judy and Jane, in their mid-teens. Judy, the pretty Paltrow, in particular, was captivated by these more mature girls, and wanted to interact with them.
Vicky and Vera arrived alone, and flirted with the Viagra crowd. Judy and Jane sat next to a middle aged couple, their foster parents, perhaps. Vicky and Vera were dressed in predictable Tribe garb, jerseys and shorts that exposed tanned flesh. Judy and Jane wore jerseys as well, but theirs were boyish, clinging to their narrow adolescent frames. Vicky and Vera had outrageously colored their hair. Judy and Jane had obviously spent a lot of time braiding each other's hair for the Tribe game. Vicky and Vera had seen The Virgin Suicides. Judy and Jane had not.
The first interactions of Vicky and Vera, sitting one row ahead of me directly in line with home plate, with Judy and Jane, sitting one row ahead of them directly in line with home plate, were...