Mr. Magpie and I went to Citi Field to root on the Nats last Friday and it was all kinds of perfect, even when we were silently, separately, simultaneously fuming over the overcrowded 7 train we took to get there, on which an older couple kept repositioning their hands and arms around the pole Mr. Magpie and I had been hanging onto until I was somehow twelve people away from Mr. Magpie and Mr. Magpie was flattened against the door of the train, forced into an awkward c curve over the woman’s head in a desperate attempt to hold on. We were both annoyed, especially after a backpack wearer kept bumping into me, entirely unaware of his encroachment on my personal space — but then we caught eyes across the train and burst into laughter.
We ate the worst food: greasy, stomach-turning popcorn, foot long hot dogs, and soggy but still curiously palatable french fries. I drank what we call “airplane wine” — that sugar-y, inexpensive swill they serve on all airplanes that tastes nothing like actual wine, but will do in a pinch. We sat directly behind the Nats dugout: “In solidarity with the Nats,” Mr. Magpie explained, gesturing to the Mets-fan-packed stadium. I marveled over Mr. Magpie’s love of the game, his attentiveness to details like a batter’s low stance, a pitcher’s wind-up, the walk up songs of the various players. (What would yours be?) Like all parents on a date, we gabbed about mini. We gossiped about our seatmates, including a young man who appeared to be attending the game on his own, eating a hot dog and peanuts in silence. (Mr. Magpie nudged me and reminded me of the solo gentleman diner we’d seen in a restaurant in Chicago that we’d both been so moved by.) At one point, Mr. Magpie grumbled something to himself and I learned that he was offput by a father and son duo; the son had been trying to wave down a hot dog vendor meandering through the seats, and the father had feebly and mutedly attempted to do the same, holding up his hand at half-staff. “You gotta teach your kid to stick up for himself!” Mr. Magpie explained. “The dad should have shown him how to flag down that dog guy!” In short, the conversation roamed from the transitory to the heart-held truth.
We left at the end of the seventh inning stretch and played Words with Friends sitting next to one another on a far emptier 7 train home. A born again Christian struck up conversation with Mr. Magpie, who gamely chatted along before realizing, two minutes in, as he later explained: “He was a little too nice. I started to wonder what he wanted. Then I noticed the tag on his shirt: Elder Lee.” We laughed about that, about a girl who got aboard the train and smooshed her whole body against the far side of the car wall despite the fact that our car was vacant, about an older woman who would not stop crinkling her plastic water bottle and dropping bits of trash all over the place. You know, the telltale signs you’re living in New York.
When we emerged at Columbus Circle, we stopped at a soft serve truck and paid $11 for two small cones — his chocolate-dipped, mine rainbow-sprinkle-covered. $11. Yet another telltale sign you’re living in New York. Two inebriated men yammered behind us while we waited, standing just a little too close and talking just a little too loud for comfort. Mr. Magpie and I exchanged a glance. But as we walked away, one of them said: “Hey! Hey! Go Nats!”
“Right on,” Mr. Magpie said, and it was kind of the cherry on top of our imperfectly perfect night, checkered with mild nuisances and endearing redemptions. As we walked into our building, the doorman noticed our smiles and our dripping cones (I believe there still may be a stray sprinkle or two in our elevator) and said: “Enjoy.”
Joy is the right word.
The evening was the perfect way to recharge our batteries.
How do you recharge your batteries?
+This is such a good price on a classic, mix-with-anything neutral-colored pillow. I have been contemplating changing up the living room by introducing some new pillows and possibly swapping out the drapes for something bold; these pillows would be a good “palette cleanser.”
+These Supergas are on sale in the sweetest colors — love that lavender!
+I love (!) this rainbow of peg dolls! I feel like mini would love sorting them into colors and placing them in their boxes.
+I’m into the monochromatic workout looks by TLA by Morgan Stewart.
+I love these crystal taper holders!
+These are supposed to be THE splurge toy to get kiddos. They simulate riding — when you push down and squeeze, it moves forward!