Tonight, I went to my last* game at Fenway. It was a mostly beautiful night, and it looked like Wake was dealing in the first few innings. But, as usual, the run support wasn't there, and Wake coughed up a few meatballs, and Donnelly couldn't hold 'em down, and in the end, I didn't get to hear "Dirty Water." The nice guy behind us took a picture of Melanie and me that turned out pretty cute, and then he promptly spilled his beer down my back. Hey, it's not a game at Fenway until someone gets beer on me, right? I was rolling with it all, because, hell, Fenway is beautiful no matter what. And then I walked back to my car, and there it was: a parking ticket. A fucking parking ticket on my last night at Fenway as a resident of this stupid fucking city in this stupid fucking state, and all of sudden, fuck! I hate everything.
Luckily, Melanie and I went to JP Licks and I got the Oreo Cake Batter, and everything was okay again. But still kind of sad.
*Last game as a citizen of the Commonwealth, that is.
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