Living the Wally Lifestyle
July 26, 2004
I attended a Mariners game this week. I like the game of baseball. I like watching it in a stadium because it can be quite a fun game. The reason I don't go to many games because I'm not too fond of phrases like, "OK, two beers, a bag of peanuts, $20."
So I tend to avoid professional sporting events.
I'm leaving the game with a friend of mine and directly behind me are two frat-boy looking losers and they are whistling with their fingers as loud as they can, then laughing about it. It would be the kind of thing you do when you hail a cab, but without the pointing and laughing part. I don't know why the are whistling loudly a few feet from my ear. Maybe they are trying to catch a nonexistent cab, maybe they are trying to get the attention of a friend, maybe they are trying to find their dog. But after a block or two, this activity was becoming too annoying to be ignored. So after sizing them up to see if I wanted to confront them, I decided I could take them on, so I turned to them and addressed them in the same exited tones I would use if I was talking to a three year old that mastered the multiplication tables.
"Did you just learn to whistle?"
'Uh, what, are you talking to me?"
"Yeah I am. Did you just learn to whistle? Because I am trying to figure out why you are doing something over and over that is fucking irritating."
The two of them and the old guy with them just stood there for a second trying to formulate a response. I kept walking because I didn't want a physical confrontation, I just wanted to address the fact that their behavior was annoying.
The continued to walk about 20 feet behind me for the next five blocks uttering things like, "you want to start something? Think you're tough? Asshole. Pussy."
All of this was fine of course. I can handle two frat boys insulting me as I walk along the street next to the stadium where the Seahawks play.
Just as long as they quit whistling.
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