Third Row

There once was a girl who took a trip to New York.

She ate everything in site with a knife and a fork.

Including two delicious hot dogs made out of kosher pork.

And drank lots of wine that was plugged up with a cork.

Sitting in the third row at Yankees Stadium made her feel less like a dork.

But the subway train had lots of torque.

Yeah. I’m out.

I went to visit my cousin last weekend in my dad’s old Brooklyn stomping grounds. Our first outing on Thursday afternoon was to the Yankees game. If you were watching said game you would have noticed me in the top right of your screen behind the batter. Looking naked. Not because I was naked but because the chair in front of me conveniently covered up my strapless dress.


What I didn’t know about these particular amazing seats was that there is an all you can eat buffet attached to it.

So what did I do?

I ate.

And ate.

And ate and ate.

And ate and ate and ate and ate and ate.

Ate. Ate. Ate.

And then I ordered a pizza.

Oh yeah, and they have a wall of candy that they encourage you to take as much as you can. Good thing I brought my big bag.

Moral of the story?

There is such a thing as too much. It’s a very scary place. And I saw it. Multiple times this weekend.


Love and Beer Floats