Please note no one was harmed during this story, except for my friend's ego and the several hours that she had to waste.
Last night I went on a date to a mets game. Now I am a Met Lover and even though it was a Monday night, and I hate Monday night dates, I thought what the hell. The guy said we would be seated in the promenade. I did not realize that “promenade” is just a nice word for the upper upper deck. Sorry to seem like a snob but the mezzanine would have been nice…. Anyhoo, convo is flowing and all is good til about the 3rd inning, when he starts telling me the story about how his ex called him recently and gave him some “disturbing” news. When I asked WHAT!? He said he could not say bc it was embarassing, and just that she had left him a “Parting Gift”. I could only imagine what that parting gift could be!! It was the longest worst game ever and the Mets are getting killed. The boy insists on staying until the 9th inning. C’mon it was like 10-2 and the mets had scattered maybe 3 hits and remember its Monday. So we FINALLY leave and we couldn’t find his car after the game. Ugh. We finally find it and I realize the reason we could not find it all this time is because it looks like this little sh1tbox attached and it was too small to see between the other cars. I then thought I was going to live my final moments on the BQE as he was doing about 90 in this piece of crap. Sigh.
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