And when I say mankind, I do not mean the human race (to me, that’s a bit offensive since the majority of the human race are women, perhaps it should be womankind but anyway, I digress). When I say mankind, I mean men, yes those, beer guzzling, ball scratching, bastions of society, men.
So how does this happen?
Apologies, we couldn’t get a better shot
It happens by going to a Yankee game (yeah, they won, 2 – 1 against Oakland – but I digress again. It happens when you sit in the upper tier box, in row B (but actually the fourth row of the box, don’t ask, another story) and two rows in front of you sit, what can only be described as, well, twenty-something skanky women. You know the type, teased hair, tank-tops that barely hide their boobs, and thongs, pulled so high, they stick out of their low-riding, tight-ass, jeans. The only thing we didn’t understand was why they bothered with the bras?
Well, it was obvious from the moment they sat down, they had two goals: 1) to pick up men 2) to get on the Diamond Vision screen in Center Field, and not necessarily in that order. We didn’t have the heart to tell them that the cameras, even with the best telephoto lenses, couldn’t reach to the heights at which we sat, but the gentlemen in front of them, tried to patiently explain it to them several times.
So now, we have these young “ladies” in front, providing more entertainment than the game, where both Yankee runs were scored in the first inning, with their crack-views, butt gyrating prancing around. Even when the smaller guys sitting between us were kicked out by larger guys (another story – why can’t anyone sit where they’re supposed to), we had high hopes of catching some of this entertainment using Rain’s (my friend) cell phone. But alas, the “ladies” accomplished their first goal, when two men invited the “ladies” to sit with them about ten rows behind us.
And as they departed, one of the big guys in front, leaned into the aisle and said to one of the “ladies'” new escorts, “I would have paid you $50 to get them out of here.” A collective sigh of relief could be heard by the surrounding men (well, except that dirty old guy sitting across the aisle from me). And my faith in mankind was restored. You see, not every beer guzzling, ball scratching guy wants to be with an anorexic, teased hair, bimbo.
Now my faith in womankind …
Apologies again, head on he looked identical – and camera phone quality sucks!
Oh and did I mention Russel Crowe was sitting three rows in front of us and to the right.
