tobermory's Diaryland Diary


Uff-da Milwaukee!

So, I’m typing this from the Pfister – from bed – because I can. And also because I’m too pin-headed to figure out how to connect to the free wi-fi connection that’s supposedly hiding here in the room. Duh. So the trip up here was uneventful except for the LOADS of traffic. The baseball game was nice – the Brewers lost, but since I’m not from here I guess I don’t really care who wins anyway as long as the game is good. Is that proper protocol? Or am I supposed to enthusiastically cheer on the home team no matter where I am? The highlight of the evening was not actually part of the baseball game, but more of a sideshow. Here’s the deal: the company I work for has an outing at a Brewers game ever year for our Milwaukee area customers. Because I plan this outing and fill out a survey when it is over, I become the owner of a pair of complimentary tickets. In the past these tickets had been in the Uecker zone (an actual area in Miller Park) way up in the nosebleeds. Apparently my glowing reviews on the surveys have had some impact because this time I wound up with $35 Club Level seats that had waitress service as an added perk. A cheerful young person would come and take your order and transmit it wirelessly to their ‘kitchen’ and then a runner would bring the order to your seat location. Anyway, a runner was bringing down an order and one of the ridiculously huge Cokes flew off his tray and bounced over the railing and onto some poor soul in the seating area below. I thought Steve was going to wet his pants he was laughing so hard. It was quite the little drama. It was that particular runner’s first day on the job (and most likely, his last) and he sort of am-scrayed with a panicked look on his face after dropping the Coke. The soaked guy was justifiably looking for someone to blame for his wet-itude and was trying to look up into the club level to see who the butterfingers was. County sheriffs were called in, event security was called in – all before the sheepish runner owned up to the dirty deed. But really, what could the wet ‘n’sticky guy really have been thinking? Cokes cost an unbelievable $6 at Miller Park. That’s $1 more than my Leinie’s Red. Would you order a $6 Coke just to toss it on someone you don’t even know? I can see if it was someone against whom you held a grudge (say, my husband’s Aunt C**** for instance) but that would take a whole lottta planning to set up that little party.

So, by now the weekend is over. I wrote that interlude from bed and then went to sleep – never to open my computer for the rest of the weekend. Y’all must know by now that I’m not the type to go through the wi-fi troubleshooting guide that The Pfister conveniently left in my room. The Pfister was quite the hotel – Milwaukee’s finest. So nice in fact that the Atlanta Braves were staying there as well. Too bad I wouldn’t have recognized any of them if they bumped into me in the elevator. On Friday night – probably right before the first part of this entry – Steve and I had gone up to Blu, the Pfister’s hipster bar/lounge. It was so hip there were badly dressed Germans and a pair of lesbians making out in a wing back chair. Now, don’t start thinking I’m some sort of small mind here. The only thing that bothered me was the PDA. In fact the gooby guy with is bimbo who were making out at the bar disturbed me even more. People – you’re IN A HOTEL. You have NO excuse not to ‘get a room’. The rooms are very nice and the beds are super comfortable – go check them out. Way more comfortable than scrunching yourself into a chair with your friend or trying not to fall into the chasm between two bar stools as you play footsie while you hang all over each other.

The rest of the weekend went pretty much as planned. We went to the lovely Milwaukee Art Museum, a couple of galleries, the Sprecher brewery tour, the requisite meal at a German restauranrt, blah, blah, blah.

We got home early on Sunday and Steve and I used the time to do yardwork – all the really fun stuff like pulling weeds, planting tomatoes, mowing the lawn. I might add that I was the one who mowed the lawn – with the PUSH MOWER. I’m trying to be environmentally friendly – that and the fact that gas (and electric) mowers scare the shit out of me. I see them as giant toe eating monsters. The push mower is like a relic of a simpler time and it’s not going to do any toe damage unless I do something really stupid like try to run over my foot on purpose. Anyway, the back yard is only like 25 X 25, so it takes about 15 minutes, half of which is dragging the mower out of the storage area.

Crap. Just checked the clock and I need to do litterbox duty (more on this tomorrow) and hit the shower before bed. We grilled tonight and I smell like a smokehouse.

10:30 p.m. - 2004-05-17


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