I love boys. I love hanging out with them. I love talking to them. I love loving them. They make you feel tiny, they always give you alcohol, and something about cuddling up in that neck nook is like a drug. The one thing that I do not love about boys, however, is sports. You know. SPORTS! For guys, it’s almost as important as sex, and if you plan on spending any time with the less-fair gender, you just have to accept that. For most of us, that means nodding along as he talks about his fantasy football team, sitting next to him on the couch and watching “The Mindy Project” on your computer while he watches hockey, and getting him so drunk at your college’s tailgate that you both say “fuck it” to the game and get pizza instead.
And for awhile, everything is fine. But then? He decides that he “wants to take the relationship to the next level.” No, not moving in together. Not marriage. No. Noooo no no no no. He wants to take you to see his favorite sports team — live.
You hesitate at the offer. You want to say no. Dear God how you want to say no. So you call your mom, and she says “if it means a lot to him you should go,” and you get mad and call her a bitch and hang up. And then, after crying and calling her back and saying sorry you realize: fuck. I need to go to this game. So you pick a cute outfit in “his” team’s colors, consider, then refuse to wear a baseball cap, and shoot down a few shots before heading to the big game.
It’s every girl’s worst nightmare. Sitting in a hot stadium, your buzz slowly wearing off, and having no fucking idea what’s going on. How come that team didn’t get points? What does that flag mean? Where’s the guy with the beer? And most importantly, when can we leave? One poor girl stuck in this situation was feeling all of this. So, as she sweating her ass off at a (according to Mashable) Toronto Blue Jays baseball game, she realized that all of her nightmares were coming true. And she wanted, no, needed to know how much time, exactly, she would be slowly dying on those hot plastic chairs.
She pulls out her phone, types a quick search, and is, of course, caught and blasted all over the internet. In a picture posted to Imgur, the poor girl is seen striving for information about when she can get out of that hell hole.
Can we blame her? I mean really. Can we? It looks hot out. She probably doesn’t want to be there because she doesn’t even know the simplest rule of baseball, and she doesn’t even have an iPhone. Times are tough for her. But, of course, the internet is not kind. And, as always the comments are almost better than the picture. Almost.
- from my understanding, it’s over when the snitch is caught.
- So.. how long does it take?
- I think it is like seven weeks start to finish… but they break it up into innings which are only 4-6 hours long…
- Someone asked before her. Thank god she got an answer.
- How boring is baseball that you’re eavesdropping on people blogging about how boring baseball is.
- If it’s anything like cricket, it’s over when the last glimmering of your soul finally flickers out…
- Till they stop serving alcohol.
- Her bubbly screen protector is giving me anxiety
- Do stadiums have wifi?
Basically, what we have here is one hell of a trooper trying to make someone else happy, just counting down the minutes until she can leave. And as for how long a baseball game is, after some quick Googling I hate to break it to you — if you’re only on the second inning, you still have a long, long way to go..