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Picking Up Chicks With Your Grandmother

by Bryan A. Thompson

As documented in an email dated 9/5/2001


Concert tickets: 



Getting dumped when your date and 40,000 other people saw Christie Brinkley hug me on the Jumbotron: 



(actually she was autographing the ticket on my back, but she *was* single at the time...)



Last night I went to the ball game with Grandma, who wanted an autograph (free every Saturday night).  So we stand in line with 1000 other people waiting for a half hour.  Then a white collar type Royals geek comes out and says "There will be no autographs."  So we're leaving, and I grab him by his shirt and yell "Hi!  This is my 77 year old grandmother, who won't be coming back to the ballpark, ever, because you wouldn't give her an autograph.  Hey - let's get him!" and we leave to get to our seats before Grandma stops being able to walk (she's been standing for 1/2 hour).

About 5-10 minutes later, this *really hot* blonde chick comes along with all her girl friends and sits next to us.  A little later, she gets bored of her friends and starts talking to me.  Which should have been my first clue that something was wrong.

Blonde:  "So, I caught your show a little earlier."

Me:  (turning red)  "Uh, yeah, that seems to be happening more and more.  I think it's the people I hang out with..."

Blonde:  "I thought they were going to do it (kick his butt) there for a minute."

Me:  "Good.  But I screwed up - I forgot to get his name so I could rat him out to the home office."

Blonde:  "Is she really 77?  How did you know?  I haven't got the faintest idea how old my grandmother is."

Me:  "Yep.  She told me while we were standing there.  I think God must've told her to."

Blonde:  "Really?"

Grandma:  "Yes, I did.  I asked him if he felt any older - his birthday was only about a week ago - he's 31!  Would you believe he's 31?  He doesn't look like it, does he?  And he said that he always feels older.  Then I told him to add forty six years to that and he'd know how I felt."

You just wouldn't believe how difficult it is to hit on the chick in the next seat with Grandma there, alternately telling everyone my age and throwing peanut shells on the people sitting below us.  Not the peanuts from the $1 bags of peanuts for sale there that day, mind you, peanuts out of her purse (because they're cheaper)...

Blonde:  (laughing her butt off)  "Yep - looks 31 to me."

Me:  "Grrrr...."

After a while...

Grandma:  "He graduated from Rolla, you know.  He works there now.  Do you know where that is?"

Blonde:  "A friend of mine went to college there."

Grandma:  "Who was it?  Maybe you (meaning me) knew them."

Blonde:  "It was a long time ago."

Grandma:  "That's OK, he's old."

Blonde:  (laughing) "I'm not sure I remember the name."

Grandma:  "Give her one of your business cards."

Me:  "I think I left them at home with my pride."

Grandma:  "No you didn't.  I saw your wallet when you bought the hot dogs.  You always keep them in your wallet.  I'm always seeing you give them to people.  They're in his wallet.  Give her one of your cards."

Me:  (even redder) "Jesus Christ!  Fine!"

I hand Blonde my card, I get blonde's card.  Graphical designer for Hallmark (KC based).  Hmm - cool, that's like one of the best jobs in KC.

Grandma:  "You know better than that.  Didn't I teach you better than that?"

Me:  "Apparently not."

Grandma:  "I did, you just don't remember.  Your parents brainwashed all of it away."

Blonde:  Laughing hysterically, ignoring her friends, who wander off for better seats or just to get away from us.

Season Ticket Holders for the seats where we all were sitting, 1 hr after game started:  "I think these are our seats."

Me:  "Nope.  See?"  (I show them that I have a ticket for that seat)

Season Ticketholder:  "Yes, they've done this about six times now.  These are our seats."  They had tickets for those seats, too.

Me:  "We're pretty well settled in here, thanks."

Blonde:  "She's 77, you know."

Grandma:  "That's right - 77."

Me:  "And we're not leaving."

Season Ticketholders wander off.  A while passes.

Blonde:  "Hey Royals Guy!  Hey Royals Guy!  Over Here!!!"

I look, and she's calling over the guy who I went postal on earlier.

Royals Guy (in instant hitting-on-really-hot-blonde mode, low voice and all):  "Can I help you?"

Blonde:  "Thanks, Roger.  I just wanted to see your name tag.  He forgot to get it earlier."  (turns to me)  "Its Roger Carmichael.  Write that down."

Me:  "I don't have a pen."

Grandma:  "I do.  Just a minute."  (digs through the peanuts in her purse to get it)

Me:  "How do you spell that?"  (I wasn't sitting close enough to see the name tag)

Royals Guy:  (Looks at me, then snarls and walks away)

Me:  "Hey, that worked pretty well."

Blonde:  "I got the lemonade guy from four aisles over (about 500ft) once."

Grandma:  "See if you can get us the pretzel guy."

Me:  "They don't walk around now that they have the charcoal grills."

Grandma:  "So?  She got Roger, didn't she?"

Me:  "Oh yeah."

A while passes, I'm watching This Week In Baseball on the Jumbotron instead of paying attention to the game...

Blonde:  (Tugging on my sleeve)  "Bryan!  Bryan!  We just won a free Pepsi and a ticket.  Let's go get 'em!"

Me:  "Huh?"

Blonde:  "When we get 4 runs, we get a free ticket and a Pepsi."

Me:  "How did you know my name?"

Grandma:  "You gave her your card."

Oh yeah.  Thanks, Grandma.

We go get the tickets and Pepsi - at this point, 24,000 people are standing in line, and I'm along for the ride.

Blonde, teasing me:  "So, you go everywhere with your grandmother?"

Me:  "She ambushed me when I came back to town.  She buys the tickets, then says 'I got you a ticket.'."

Blonde:  "Mine still makes me play piano during her recitals.  She teaches piano.  She says it's either that or she eats cat food."

We get up to the ticket window, and blonde asks me when I'll be in KC next.  "When hell freezes over, if I can help it," I'm thinking, but I have the presence of mind to say "The 29th!  My sisters baby is due on the 29th!"  So I'm going to the ball game with the blonde on the 29th.  For free.  My second major clue that something's wrong, and all I'm thinking is "Dang, I'm glad I didn't say 'When Hell Freezes over' just then."

It turns out that the other reasons I was thinking "the 29th" was that it's also the family reunion and the day dad got more tickets for the Renaissance Festival.  OK, I can make this work.  RenFest from 10am-2pm in Bonner Springs, KS.  Family Reunion in Lenexa (50 miles south of RenFest) from 3pm-5pm.  5:30, pick up Julie wherever (I was smart enough to reread the card).  6:30  ball game.  Dang - hope the doctor wasn't right about the date for the baby arriving...

Back in our seats...

Grandma:  "Would you like some peanuts?"

Julie:  "Sure."

I pass Grandma's purse and Julie gets a handful of peanuts and immediately starts throwing the shells down onto the people below us, imitating Grandma and laughing her butt off.  She and Grandma talk over me some more.  Not wanting to seem like I'm staring, I ignore them completely and actually watch the game.

Ballgame is almost over...

Julie:  "You still don't remember me, do you."

Me:  "Huh?  Who, me?"

Julie:  "Yes, you.  You don't remember me, do you?"

Oh Shooooooot!  That ain't *ever* something good to hear.

Me: (I take a look to make sure she's not someone that's dumped me in the past)  "Nope, sorry."   (Oh God)

Julie:  "Remember your best friend in High School?"

Me:  "I went to four high schools - I'm afraid I don't remember anyone."  (Oh God)

Julie:  "At Grandview - you graduated there - I saw you."

Me:  "Oh my God!"


At this  point, I'm thinking "Oh my God!  You had a sex change?  And five minutes ago, I was thinking, "Dang, she's hot!"  Ewwwwww!!!!"  Fortunately I didn't say that.  Julie takes off her glasses, and I remember her. For the last three hours, I've been hitting on my best-friend-in-high-school's little sister.  Even got a date with her.

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