Playing the pregnancy card

Steve and I went to a baseball game at Nat Bailey Stadium yesterday evening. We scored super cheap tickets at the door ($5 each) which we were feeling pretty smug about - until we got to our seats and realized we were sitting in the bleachers on the 3rd base line - in the blazing hot sun. And me without a hat.

And before long, the bleachers were full of people. We've been to games before and sat on the other side of the stadium and we've never been packed in so tight as we were last night. I'm talking cattle car packed - shoulder to shoulder, knee to knee. Anyone who knows me well, knows how I feel about being packed in with a crowd of strangers...

Being pregnant, my sense of smell is as sharp as a bloodhound. So with all the people packed around me, I felt like I was sitting in the middle of a smell hurricane that consisted of dirty hair, suntan lotion, B.O., beer breath and my personal favorite - farts.

On top of the smells, the sight of the unshaved armpits of the drunk woman sitting in front of me was enough to make me want to vomit.

I was boiling hot and sweating. I couldn't see much of the ball game through all the heads of smelly hair and the sun was directly in my eyes.

By the top of the 3rd I was done. I could not stand ONE. MORE. SECOND. So I suggested to Steve that maybe we should just go home. But he wanted to watch the game - as did I. So he thought maybe we could just go sit somewhere else in the bleachers. Somewhere a little less crowded and covered by shade.

So we squeezed our way out of the crowded bleachers and made our way to a security guard to whom Steve explained "My wife is pregnant and it's too hot for her to sit in the sun over there. Can we sit somewhere else?" He looked at my belly and told Steve to go back to the box office and ask if we could trade our tickets in for 2 seats in the shade.

At the box office window, Steve cleverly played the pregnancy card there: "My wife is pregnant and the sun is making her feel really sick. Is there any way we could trade these tickets in for other ones - in the shade? Even something in the nose bleed section would be fine."

The dude at the box office then handed Steve a couple of new tickets and said, "Here you go. Hope your wife is more comfortable in these seats."

He had upgraded us to club seats.

Our new seats were right behind home plate. In the shade. In actual separate seats as opposed to bleachers. The (hot) ball players who weren't playing in this game were sitting all around us and none of them had stinky hair, suntan lotion, B.O., and I couldn't smell any farts at all! There was also no stinky, hairy lady armpits to be seen.

There was still a slight hint of beer breath but I am pretty sure it was coming from Steve - but I managed to tolerate that.