I went to a Minnesota Twins game with my parents on Thursday (tickets courtesy of Matthew Feeney, who wanted to say thanks for being an extra at that all-night shoot for Fall Into Me). We were in the tenth row down the third base line—pretty good seats. However, getting inside the Metrodome meant we still had to deal with all the people hawking tickets outside.
We had parked six or seven blocks away to avoid getting jacked for $10 in a lot. Heading to the stadium, we ended up walking towards someone holding up four tickets to the game. Didn’t need ‘em, planned to pass by the guy, no big deal. All of a sudden, he turned to me and said, “Gimme a smile!”
I looked at him and thought, “Okay, he wants me to get excited about the Twins playing in half an hour, go team!” I flashed him a grin, at which point he yelled out, “I saw you on TV last night!” (It seems very odd that the first time someone told me he recognized me, he’d be hawking tickets to a baseball game…)
We talked briefly, then he handed me his card (he works for Premiere Tickets, which assumedly doesn’t screw you over nearly as hard as Ticketmaster for concerts, sporting events, etc.) I tucked it in my pocket, we shook hands and he said, “My wife will get a kick out of this.” Under the circumstances, I think I got a kick out of it as well.
