Mr.U&I decided to get some baseball tickets at the last minute last Friday. It was a million degrees out, but our seats were wonderful and the view was excellent from our front-row aisle balcony spot. Unfortunately, though, some drunk woman ran into me, forcing Mr.U to stop short, also get stepped on and break his sandal. When he got up for beers&bathroom breaks, he wore my Birkenstocks, which I’d unbuckled for him, but the 4-block walk back to our car tore his poor bare feet up a bit. And, covered in sweat, we were both happy to be back home that evening.
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