A Vendor Got Drilled In The Ass By A Foul Ball In Oakland Last Night
Head on a swivel, my man. Head on a swivel. Ballpark Vendor Life is a son of a bitch. It’s just a thankless, miserable existence. You’re walking up and down the stairs like a god damn Spartan Race participant, you’re balancing shit on your head like some kind of fuckin’ talent show, you’re dealing with cranky drunk people snapping their fingers at you like you’re a dog, and then when you’re out here trying to make some sales so you can pay your shitty bills and feed your family, you take a heat-seeking missile right off the ass. And while you stand there, writhing in pain, you think to yourself, “Wow, this is it. This is the moment that I finally get sympathy from these ballpark-goers.”
But NOPE. While you’re trying to figure out where you went wrong in life, how it has come to this, and wondering if this is really how it ends, you look up, and those ballpark-goers who you mistakenly thought would come to your aid, instead of helping you in your time of need, much like you have done for them for years upon years, they instead are focused on trying to find a baseball on the ground, while the ballpark employee just looks the other way. It’s really a metaphor for life in general. Nobody cares about you and then you die. Alone.
This blog took a really dark turn. The A’s won this game on one of the dumbest walk-off hits ever.