Take me out to the ballpark

That's right, I'm going to a baseball game tomorrow night. Cubs vs. Houston (Oilers? Oh, Astros)

With my boss and her boss and another coworker.

The coworker is L.S., who used to work with me at my part time job. This event came together as a way for D.BBoss to thank her for referring me to the job at The Bank. See, bank employees get $500 for employee referrals that stay employed at The Bank, but since she is hired by The Bank and not an actual Bank Employee, she gets squat. So that's nice of him.

Apparently, the main reason I'm invited is because he didn't want to go only with her.

"What are we gonna talk about?"

So, basically, I am there pretty much for conversation buffer/fodder. Whatever, right? He'll probably fund most of the beer, and I think he's smuggling in two huge bags of peanuts. It might be a fun night. I get along fairly well with my boss, Harley A.

And I dig free beer.

If any of you are at the game, look for a skinny guy in glasses and a cap (either a NY Jets cap or an O.U. cap): that'll probably be me, chugging awkward beers, leering at the ladies and asking things like "Sooo, how many innings are left?" or "Who wants to go out for a smoke?"

I'll try to let you know how it goes (and try to get some blackmail; erm, I mean photos).