Burning Bridges is a Form of Suicide.

I try to be as diplomatic as possible, as much of the time as possible.

This is not always possible.

For Blake, Anthony and Clinton, this is much less than always possible.

We had front-row-on-the-third-baseline tickets to the Orioles/Red Sox game on Saturday (thanks, Anthony!). The game was great. I mean, the game was greatest for the Red Sox fans (I would say that the stands were 80% full of Red Sox fans), and not quite as great for O's fans. Poor O's...were booed in their own ballpark...and were out-chanted by "Let's go Red Sox!" the entire time.

Manny Ramirez (sp?) hit his 500th home run. The fans went wild. 80% of the stadium errupted and flash blubs went off in every direction. Even the umpire was clapping for him ("Nice Job Ref...now we know who you're really cheering for" - Blake).

Three rather drunk women ran up in front of us: screaming, cheering and generally going wild for the dreadlocked Ramirez. They turned around with gleeful looks on their faces and handed --actually tried to hand-- their camera to Anthony and Clinton:

"Take a Picture"

Shaking heads "nuh uh"

"You won't take our picture??!"

Still shaking heads and looking self-satisfied "No way."

Ladies look to Blake: "How about you"

Also satisfied with self "No thanks, not me"

Now angry with male O's fans. Look to me: "How about you?"

Unable to say no. Scared for life. Scared that burning this bridge would actually be a form of suicide...drunk, cat-fight suicide: shrugs... "Sure"

From then on out, any time the guys passed these three women on the way to get hot dogs (baseball hot dogs are the best!) the women would boo, hiss, and scream "Meany, meany, mean boys!!!".

Then I passed. "Oh, nice, nice girl. We like you!"

Bridge successfully in tact.