Just got a haircut. Okay, it was just a trim, but the styling apparently was the difference. My flat-ironed 'do seemed to make me something of a guy-magnet at the Cubs-Cardinals game yesterday (not to be misconstrued as a complaint.)
I was chatting with the visiting Connecticut couple sitting on my left when five guys arrived to fill the row to my right. A big guy in a red shirt with what appeared to be a pig on it sat to my immediate right. (I later discovered that it was a razorback pig, the mascot for Arkansas.)
For a few years, I was fortunate enough to share baseball games with Firecracker. But now that she's back home, I've had to readjust my game-day attitude and try to see the bright side of going solo. One of my favorite things about going to baseball games alone (aside from an easier time getting a ticket) is the opportunity to meet new people. After an hourlong rain delay, the game began and I discovered that the Arkansas crowd was actually Cardinals fan (DUH! RED SHIRTS!)
In case you forgot, the full name of the St. Louis team is the rat-bastard St. Louis Cardinals (okay, it's not the legal monniker, but whatever!) Fortunately, I didn't mention my nickname for the Redbirds because my seat neighbor turned out to be a former Cardinals catcher!
We spent much of the game commenting on the action and Redbird Guy was impressed by my knowledge and said if he ever started coaching, he'd think of offering me a job. Hmmn???
Happily, my Cubs beat the Cards but his team's loss didn't diminish Redbird Guy's enthusiasm for the evening.
"So, what are you doing tonight?" came the not-unexpected question. "Wanna join us for dinner? What's your number?"
I gave him my cell digits and then headed to my usual post-game watering hole, not sure if Redbird Guy was planning to call or just doing the usual 'close the deal' routine.
Flatiron effect was in full force at the bar, as a young Cardinal fan wrapped his arm around me when I walked in and said to his friends, "If all Cubs fans looked like her, I'd definitely be a Cubs fan."
Fast-forward not more than 20 minutes later...A trio of other out-of-towners were taking off to a local restaurant and said I was welcome to join them. I had chatted with one of trio's members (from San Francisco) earlier at the back bar, so when they were leaving, he came over and kissed me on the cheek on his way out. The second guy, who I'd just been introduced to, did the same. The third, who I'd never seen before, must have thought this was the traditional departure ritual, so he kissed my cheek, too.
It's the hair.
Despite the lovely attention, I was ready to head home and by 9 pm, I was curled up on the sofa with an Abbott & Costello movie on when my cell buzzed. Redbird Guy apologized for not calling sooner, but his friends insisted on stopping to eat right after they left the ballpark (not a surprise since they had only one or two hotdogs between them.)
RG said they were heading out to a bar soon. I had already decided that I was done for the night, so he apologized again and said if the Cubs make the playoffs, he might be back. Could he call me?
Sure.
Gotta strike when the iron is hot.
