Ice Cold

It was been subtly chilly the last couple of days.  The sun has been out, but the wind has also been blowing, and the air cool.  It's the perfect weather to walk around, but feels especially brisk if instead of walking around, one chose to sit outside for 3 hours after the sun has set.

I went to Fenway last night with DBomb, Allison, and Marie.  But instead of getting 4 seats together, I got seats in 2 different rows.  Thanks to this, and the time I turned in her homework to the wrong TA and caused a weekend of confusion, Allison has barred me from handling all responsibilities.  I am OK with that.  Last night was not a great night for decision making.  Since DBomb and I had to entertain ourselves for the two thirds of the game when Allison and Marie (along with the extra warm pullover she had packed for me) had to sit in their proper seats, we made a lot of small talk about the food being flown around us.  We especially fixated our gaze on the swirls of soft serve ice cream served in little plastic helmets and after 7 innings, convinced ourselves that more than nachos, peanuts, Cracker Jack, and er, clam chowder (who buys clam chowder in the stands?), we both really wanted ice cream. 

(first sign of alarm, as I zipped up my jacket)

Moi: How cold do you think the ice cream will be?

DBomb: Uh.  Cold? 

(more brilliance)

DBomb: OK.  I scoped out the prices.  The helmet is $5.50.  The cup is $4.50.

Moi: You mean the price is as it says on that giant sign in front of us?

DBomb: Oh, what?  I did not see that.  I was really proud of my asking around.

(final verdict- shivering in the stands, sweatshirt hoods drawn, slurping down ice cream)

Moi: So if we were to do a cost benefit analysis of this experience-

DBomb: I've eaten a lot of ice cream and the benefits are generally worthwhile.

Moi: But I wish I had gotten all chocolate.  I just didn't want to seem like I preferred black over white.

DBomb: On second thought, I am freezing.  And I also wish I had gotten chocolate.