Not My Week For Tickets

I present to you the following e-mail conversation I had with my brother-in-law yesterday. He's still alive, but only because I don't want to go live in the slammer. Still, as I pointed out to him, a jury of baseball fans would acquit me.

E-mail #1, from me:

So. Did you get invited to the box for the playoffs? If you say yes, and didn't invite me, I'll have to kill you with my bare hands.

E-mail #1, from Steve:

How did you know? Only kidding, but we do have tickets for Friday's game.

E-mail #2, from me:

Tickets for Marc and me, too? Or (and I am not kidding about this) am I going to have to drive up to your office and just strangle you. I'd be acquitted by a jury of baseball fans, it's perfectly defensible.

E-mail #2, from Steve:

I was given nose bleed seats for Friday.

E-mail # 3, from me:

Excuses, excuses, excuses. Nose bleed seats are still seats in the stadium for a playoff game in the League Championship Series. How can I put this more simply?

I am a HUGE FUCKING baseball fan, and a Marlins fan, and have been since I was part of the grassroots movement to get an expansion team to South Florida. One of my life goals is to attend a game in every major league park. I'm about a tenth of the way there. I have been to opening day games at Yankee Stadium and at Shea. I have seen the Red Sox play at Fenway. I cry at the first pitch.

And you have a seat for the play offs, the hardest seats to come by in the country, and you didn't even THINK of inviting me? Or trying to wheedle an extra ticket? Are you MAD? Do you think I'm kidding? I'm just going to have to, I don't know.... give your daughter a toy that makes noise?

ggrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

I don't want to be your sister-in-law anymore. Expect to see a major rant about this on Girlyshoes, bucko.

ggggggggggrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

E-mail #3, from Steve:

So does this mean your email is working? (Note: the whole conversation began with a request to fix a broken e-mail link on a site he hosts)

Sorry, I have no control over the ticket thing. So the Marlins are in the playoffs? Will I have trouble finding a parking space?

E-mail #4, from me:

Yes.

> So the Marlins are in the playoffs? Will I have trouble finding a parking space?

Yes. And yes. Take a shuttle. Unless your buddy gave you a parking pass, too.

If you weren't so cute, if you didn't look EXACTLY like David Lee Roth, and if I didn't love your idiot brother so much, I would be so very, very pissed at you right now.

He thanked me for relieving him of some of the guilt with that last message. I told him if he wanted to be relieved of all the guilt that he could give me the freaking tickets. I guess he likes living with guilt. And I hope he likes living with the child-size set of bagpipes his daughter is getting for her birthday next week.