Hil has a second, part-time job. But, the part-time job is working for the same company. It's all very confusing.

At any rate, her part-time position is to escort groups of people with mental disabilities on social outings. They go out for pizza, they go bowling, they walk along Riverside Park, whatever. The goal is to get some non-work related socialization for their clients, and also give the client's primary caretaker an evening off.

Last Thursday, the group was going to watch the local AAA franchise, the Buffalo Bisons. America's pastime, what could be better? They had a big pile of extra tickets, so Hil and her coworkers were asked to bring friends or family along. (Normally doing that is specifically disallowed, as they are supposed to be socializing with the clients, not with their off-duty friends.) So Hil and I went to see the mighty Bisons take on the Rochester Red Wings.

This hasn't been the Bison's year: they were 40-54 as of game day. It wasn't my day either. Hil had to drive her clients to the game, so I went in my own car, and I failed to account for traffic being slower while heading to a 7:05 PM game at the stadium in the heart of downtown. Not only did I miss the first half-inning, I had to call Hil to come outside the stadium and meet me to give me a ticket to get inside.

Our seats gave us a, shall we say, panoramic view of the field. We were up in the top corner of the edge of the grandstand out along the first-base line. The day was still warm, but up where we were the wind from the lake was quite brisk. That didn't stop us from making a seventh-inning visit to the ice cream vendor.

The game itself wasn't bad. The Bisons got off to a good start, up 2-0 after the first and adding three more in the fifth. They went through five pitchers, but being the minors, I expect the manager tries to keep pitch counts down. The Red Wings got in three of their own in the seventh, but they couldn't close the gap, and the Bisons won 5-3.

I didn't notice when the game ended. Seriously, I was confused when everyone stood up all off a sudden. It was late, I was cold, the damned game was just dragging on.

The last pro ball game I went to, I was 14, and according to my father I was not shy about expressing how bored I was. This time was better, but I don't think I'm going to invest in season tickets anytime soon.

Posted by: Boviate at 05:06 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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