Story Sent in by Ellen:
|Original Art by Craig Boldman - www.craigboldman.com|
He picked me up at my apartment and drove us toward Busch Stadium. When it was within sight, he made a confusing set of turns, and headed away from the game. I asked him, "Where are we going?"
He replied, "Quick pit stop. I want to get us some game gear."
Twenty minutes later, he parked us in the lot of a Toys R Us. As we headed inside, I told him, "We're going to miss the first innings."
He ignored that and led me to the sporting goods aisle. Once there, he found a wiffle ball set, then broke it open, right there, and set it up. "Play ball!" he yelled, and smashed the ball and tee right over, in the aisle. He threw the bat up into the air, and it hit the ceiling. He clapped, yelled, "Woo! Play ball!" and ran around the aisle as if he was running the bases.
Two sales associates came running over and one of them said, "Sir, you're going to have to leave."
He ran over to where the plastic bat had landed, then picked it up and screamed, "Play ball!" one more time, before smashing it three times into various toy boxes (doing more damage to the bat than the boxes themselves) and shoving past all of us, out of the store.
I was, in a word, horrified. The same associate who had told him to leave asked me, "Are you with him?"
"No," I replied, then hurried to another aisle and called a friend, who was able to pick me up about an hour later.
I didn't hear from Keith again after that, and I'm glad for it. I was ready to use his head as a wiffle ball.