Why Did She Get One?

It’s funny how quickly your week can go from great to crappy. Not funny in the sense of a clown getting a cream pie in the face. More like funny in the sense of seeing the guy in Wal-Mart dressed in a Phoenix Suns uniform but wearing a fur coat under his tank top then as you get closer you realize it’s not a fur coat it is his back. Yeah that is kind of how this week is turning out for me. It started out with the idea of having a few days off from work and taking in a different Spring Training baseball game every day of the week basking in the warm Arizona sun and assessing a team’s chances for the 2008 season. That dream was quickly destroyed with a pipe wrench. Then it really went downhill when I realized that I couldn’t read a calendar. When the first half of your week goes this poorly there is not a whole lot more you can do except crawl back into bed and pull the covers up over your head and pray for the bad dreams to end.

But I am an optimist. I figure things have gotten this bad what else could happen? It’s usually at this point that fate takes a swing with a 32 ounce Louisville Slugger and smacks you right upside the head. So I really should not have expected anything else to possibly go right. It was Thursday and looking at the calendar which is still mocking me I see that the Diamondbacks are back in Tucson and I am still in Chandler regardless of how much I wanted to believe the events of yesterday were just some sort of horrible nightmare. To try and forget the past 24 hours I decided to go down to the mailbox. Maybe I would get a letter from Ed McMahon telling me I had just won the Publishers Clearing House jackpot and then I could drown my sorrows down at the ballpark while picking out my seats above the Diamondbacks dugout. Oh come on I can’t be the only person to ever have that fantasy. As I opened up the mail box I began retrieving the various pieces of mail. Bill, bill, postcard from Victoria Secret offering me a free pair of panties (why do they keep sending me that?), another credit card application for Capital One (they have no idea what is in my wallet), Sedona Red envelope from the Diamondbacks, advertisement for low-cost hamburger. Wait, what was that last one? Hamburger is $1.77 a pound. No the one before that. Oh a Sedona Red envelope from the Diamondbacks. Hey, my luck just changed. I wonder if this is a “get well” card from the team since they figure I must be sick because I missed the game yesterday. I turned the envelope over and noticed the addressee: Trina Summers. What the heck? How come Trina’s getting mail from the Diamondbacks? I went back to the box and opened it again. Obviously I missed a piece of mail. After all the Diamondbacks wouldn’t send mail to my wife and not me would they? I opened the box and looked inside. Nope, it is empty. I went back through the stack of mail in my hand. Bill, bill, free panties, credit card application, letter to Trina from the Diamondbacks. I felt like the guy that just found out his wife was dating his best friend. This is completely messed up. I rushed back to the house and waving the Sedona Red envelope I demanded an explanation from Trina. She of course feigned confusion and ignorance. What the heck is going on? How come you get mail from the Diamondbacks? I’m the one who is the diehard fan. You won’t even paint the family room Sedona Red. Trina of course just ignored my pacing and ranting as I went through my qualifications for receiving mail from the Diamondbacks. She just quietly opened the envelope read the contents then left it on the table and returned to her crocheting. Several minutes later I realized she wasn’t even still in the room meaning I was ranting for nothing. After searching the house I finally found her in the laundry room putting clothes in the dryer. I asked her what the letter said. She told me to read it myself, it was on the table. I ran to the kitchen and found the envelope still lying there opened. I opened it and read it fully expecting to find some sort of love letter. Instead it was an invitation for Trina to become a Season Ticket holder. Why didn’t they invite me to be a Season Ticket holder? Oh wait, I already am. Never mind.

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