what's more american than apple pie....?

baseball!! monday, mid-afternoon greg sends me an instant message at work and asks if i want to go to a red sox game. silly question.  because his bff has some extra tickets from work. free tickets? double silly question. i haven't been to fenway park since my 3rd day living in boston:

you know, back when gluten and i were still friends. 

so we hop on the T, make our way down to fenway, and meet justin at the gate. i didn't even glance at the ticket i was handed, i was focused on making it through the purse check with my water bottle and gf backup snacks intact. next thing i know, we take a sharp left and up the nearest set of stairs we go.....shit.

we were headed for the suites, and i wore jorts...whoops....

yep, those were the faces we made once we opened the door. 
there was quite the snack selection: pizza and chicken fingers and ceasar salad and all kinds of beer and baseball hat sundaes....

 as usual, i ended up with an eclectic mix: chips&salsa, popcorn, chardonay, and a hat full of reeses pieces...

realistically, that sounds like a single-girl-dinner kinda night

as the night cooled down, we opened the giant window, and i finally paid attention to the game.

i may have been watching it through the bottom of my wine glass though :D

we talked about how cool it would be to have seats on the green monsta {to the right of greg's face}

as we were leaving, we stumbled upon this gem, and i'm kinda jealous i didn't hop in {but was also genuinely concerned greg would drive off in it}

finally, we made it back to the T, and i sat on the back stairs for the ride home. in my jorts. with my smuggled  tin of that stale, weird, but oh so delicious movie theater/ball park popcorn. with this knee level view from the green line:

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