The Power of Nice -- or Stalking

Someone in my company gave me smoking awesome glittery tickets to a MLB game tonight. And the tixs came with perks and bells and whistles so I was excited and all -- but I really just wanted a funnel cake. And don't you even prentend you don't know what I am talking about. Amen.

Most people would have zeroed in immedaitely on the super sweet seats and the fact we could almost reach out and touch the players in the dug out. But not me. Nope. So sorry. I was just glad they had their names written on their backs so I could finally call them by their respectable family name instead of my normal tactics"Sweetie? Excuse me...Honey? Mr MLB player man? Sweetie?" It just made it so nicer. I never got if they returned the feeling or not. But I am certain the dear sweet precious angels did.
Anyhoo -- like iI said. Most people were ga ga over the great view of the players. But I zeroed in on something else right away. Something that was calling out to me. Suduicing me with his man powers and I was putty in his strong influencial arms. He was speaking my love language....and he has known my whole life how to have a hold on me. We were not new lovers but an old flame.

The Camera. Oh Mr Camera Man? How are you? Have you been doing this very long? WOW How amazing. What's your name? I'm Country Girl. Wanna meet my spawn?Oh yes, yes. They are darling. You should put them on the big sceen. They are the BIGGEST Angel fans.

You mean Atlanta fans?

Oh wait? Yes. Yes. I mean Atlanta.

Those Angelic Atlantaaaaa.....

Braves?

Oh yes. Yes. Braves. Land of the free, Home of the Brave. The Atlanta Braves. God rest their soul. That's what I always say. Braves! Braves to the death. Yep, that's me. I practically have a Braves tattoo somewhere on me. Yeah. Eat em up Spit em out Go BRAVES Go. Rah Rah. Anyhoo -- MT and I ended up on the big screen for the kissing cam. And he smooched me. And then BT, ET, and I ended up on another shot with the infamous foam finger. Yes my friends. THAT is the power of nice. Or fear of me becoming a permanenat stalker. Either way -- I like to not get into the details schmetails. Why drill down. Bottom line? I am practically famous now. I am certain my life is about ready to change.

We also got to experience how the OTHER half live as we had access to the the Club. And the food there? Oh how my thighs cried out in glory.

And we were able to view the game from up high and what a view it was.

I think after awhile it was quite obvious we did not belong.

NOT because I had on pink flower flip flops and a foam finger. But because we really did act like a bunch of Savage Indians. Which I think is the meaning behind "Braves" but I get confused and all cause I hear they call themselves the Angels too. Soo -- we went back to our seats. And I has befriended James. He was the guard for the dug out. NO ONE was getting by James to talk to those players. BUT -- I just thougtht I would ask. So I simply said James? Can we look into the dug out? He said SURE -- BUT NO CAMERAS!

So I did what any law abiding sweet Southern obedient lady would do -- I tossed it to some college guys behind me and told them to snap some photos. And we chatted with some of the players and they were sweet and nice and all. BUT THEN.... Then they said "Wanna come in?" And I did my OMG OMG-fan-my-face-with-my-hands-cause-I-might-pass-out

And they lifted MT right on over and let him hang for a few seconds. And I of course maintained my composure and continued to appear cool and calm in the course of what was the COOLEST thang ever. I mean how many people get to go into the Atlanta Angels dug out? And I let them know my apprecaition as I shouted out "Angels Are The Best Baseball Team Ever!!!!!!"

And with that they gave me back MT. I think they were overwhelmed by my love and support.

Amen