you never know what you’re gonna get…
Nothing beats a good walk and a weedge on a Friday. This place doesn’t look like much, but the food is good and relatively cheap (six bucks and change for a loaded six inch sandwich, a bag of chips, and a small drink). They serve Boar’s Head meat, have a full grill, and — so I’m told — make a mean pastrami. Plus I can walk over there and get back to the office in a half-hour.
The platform at Anaheim station is a skid-free zone. Cool, huh?
… What?
They’re giving away Rally Monkey Beanie Babies at the game tonight and the missus, upon hearing this news, emphatically stated (in her best Uncle-Rico-tempts-prospective- 24-piece-set-customer-with-model-ship voice), “ah wawnt that…”
So here we are. With two new monkeys. Watching the Indians slowly defeat the Angels with Chinese water torture. Not that we weren’t planning on coming anyway.
… Then it’s six stops and I’m home. The wind has kicked up to a cold, insistent nudge; like it’s telling bad jokes and has to cap each one with an elbow and a knowing wink.
I get it. I get it, already.
The train’s not late, but the wait seems longer than usual.
…and none in Cleveland, for that matter. Not for baseball fans.
Three days of snow and not a sign of spring. So far, all three opening games have been snowed out!
