So Sunday I took a trip up to Points North to pick up Josie so we could meet up with Cranky (aka Little Buddy) who would be there with her wife The Skipper (aka Skip, aka Chip, aka Sparky...I could go on) and take in a little Red Sox baseball.
The day did not start off auspiciously. We needed to change our plans a little bit right out of the gate because half of the Back Bay Fens would be shut down due to an annual assuaging of the collective conscience called the Walk for Hunger. Walk for hunger? Give me a fucking break. You want to solve the hunger problem? BUY SOMEONE A SANDWICH. Make sure the soup kitchens are stocked. Volunteer to be a ladle boy. Don't tie up one of the most congested cities in North America by making a big show about how much you fucking care. And whatever happened to the best charity being anonymous, anyway? But man, am I digressing.
The whole point is that rather than drive in to the park we had to take the train (for you locals, that meant driving to Wellington, grabbing the Orange Line to Haymarket, switching to the Green Line and waiting for a non-E train, then getting off [tee hee] at Kenmore).
Before we left, Josie reminded me that she had gotten me a present a few weeks back. Well since Sunday was the first day I'd seen her in that few weeks, she took this opportunity to hand it to me: a holder for my Kindle. A little thing; an inexpensive thing. But a thoughtful thing. I was touched, no bullshit. It was a really nice gesture. Jesus, just when you think Josie's kind of douchy, she turns around and does something nice that brings a lump to the throat. It goes to show you never can tell.
Anyway, after sufficient demonstrations of gratitude, we were off to the train. The first funny thing we saw was a young family, maybe three kids plus mom and dad, who were obviously taking public transportation for the very first time. Josie and I had a good laugh putting words into their mouths about their experience. "See, honey? This is how the hobos and winos travel the city. Isn't it exciting?"
But we got to the park more or less without incident. I was able to impart a bit of homeless-guy wisdom onto Josie ("never give any money to a spare-changer who is clean-shaven") in the bargain. We went in the wrong door and ended up walking pretty much the entire way around the park, in the wrong direction, to get to our seats.
The company was outstanding. Josie self-professes a shyness around people she's meeting for a first time, but if that's really true she conceals it well. I have no such difficulty, it probably wouldn't shock you to hear. But at our table there were two people whom we hadn't met yet: Cranky's wife Skip, and her brother Russ.
The Skipper struck me as very much similar to Cranky: smart, cynical, sarcastic, in short my kind of folks. I enjoyed my time with her and was impressed with her attitude. Here's a woman who's caught kind of a bad break in life but faces her challenges with stoicism and humor. And of course, Cranky is just as impressive as a caregiver, both physically and emotionally. Here's a couple who've been together for 30 years and they still use terms of endearment to refer to each other. It was endearing to watch.
Cranky's brother Russ reminded me a little bit of someone out of my own family, right down to the beard. He was a lot of fun to talk to. When he discovered I was Jewish he broke out the only Jewish joke in his arsenal, which I hadn't heard and which was genuinely funny.
So: notwithstanding the fact that the Sox lost, taking 17 fucking innings to do it, and that the left half of my face got sunburned, everyone had a great time.
After we left, Josie and I decided to stop somewhere for a quick bite to eat. We had settled on Five Guys, right near her house, but for some reason we both got seduced by the Chinese buffet next door. We were heartened by the fact that it was packed, and had a bunch of Chinese folks in it. However the reality quickly set in that it fucking sucked, and we passed up an opportunity for a delicious Five Guys greaseburger for bad fryolator cuisine Chinoise. Well consider it a lesson learned; we're never doing that again.
Finally I wanted to regale you with a little poker news. I wasn't going to post about this, but then I saw that Josie tweeted her having nailed Lightning with a Very Grumpy hand, so I figure it was OK if I told a tale or two out of school. We were playing a .25/.50 cash game on BCP and I start noticing that, even more than usual, Josie would play every hand that I was in. Two of those hands were impactful: Holding a suited K3 in the SB I standard raised (remember, I don't call shit anymore). Josie called. Flop connects on my 3. I bet out and Josie calls. Turn gives me a third 3. I bet out again and get a quick call. Same thing on the riv. I end up winning a good $12 or so on the hand, Josie had A10 which didn't improve.
The last hand was kind of more of the same: I had KXd. Flop gave me top pair, four diamonds, and a gutter to a straight. I bet, she raises, I move her in, she calls. Turns out my King was good; Josie had nothing and was trying to bluff me off the hand. So I felted her and did a little happy dance inside my head. Why? Because that NEVER HAPPENS TO ME. With Josie, even when I make the right decision, her otherworldly luck holds out. Not this time Shmosie! Who's the whore now?? That's still me, just making sure you knew.
My final hand of the night was against Lightning. I had KJs and the flop came KQX. I bet healthy but Lightning snap-shoved. I thought for a while and decided my top pair wasn't good. Hey Light, if you're reading this, what did you have, buddy?
So there you go. I'm open for all praise and approbation.