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May 2009

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But Mighty Fine only Gets me Somewhere Half the Time

Ok, to start off I may as well clear up my identity crisis. My formal name is Caroline, but I go by Carly. I guess I like being able to identify with both names, but it gets confusing since I've met so many new people in NYC. Before hearing Neil Diamond's "Sweet Caroline" made me wanna kill myself (because it is the unofficial anthem of Bandwagon Red Sox fans), that song was my ringtone. In any case, I'm a definite fan of Andre 3000's "Roses" and can identify with many of the lyrics in particular the lyric "but mighty fine only got you somewhere half the time, and the other half you were either gettin' cussed out or comin' up short."

The other day, I stopped into a random Uno's on the UES to catch some Lakers action and, as is always the case when I frequent bars alone, was immediately accosted by some random dude. I was wearing my Celtics T-Shirt, making for an easy "yes I'm from Boston" conversation starter. This guy, also by himself, was rambling on and on and was a Yankees fan. I mentioned that the Phillies are my favorite NL team and I was hoping to catch a game live and he told me he had spare season tickets. He insisted on getting my number, which I stupidly gave (the whole 617 thing enhanced that "yes I'm from Boston" vibe) and I followed up about those tickets the next day.

When I sent the text "how much do you want for them?" I meant it as a mere formality. I was convinced that, since I'm cute, he was just offering me spare tickets he couldn't use gratis. But, ya know, I wanted to be polite and pretend I had any intention of paying. His response was "$70 for the two of them's good." I guess they were grandstand behind home plate. Non-story short, I passed simply because I was offered a last minute work gig and figured it'd be better to make money than spend it. But I was still a little peeved he wasn't just trying to invest that ticket money on the fourish hours of quality time I'd have to sit in close proximity to him making small talk.