At Cii Field last night, the beer vendor came by in the bottom of the 7th and I asked my friend in a Seinfeldian way, “Do you need a beer on the bottom of the 7th?”
I like beer. A lot. I almost always have one (singular) at the game although last night I took advantage of a small crowd to zip through the Shake Shack instead. (Note to self, a double is too much. No need.)
It was a crisp April night and the game was sailing along. Along comes a veteran vendor.
Before I continue, let me say that (a) I am not asking for anything to change, (b) not anti-beer and (c) the Mets take drinking at games very seriously and have been known to do training sessions with anyone who serves alcohol.
So here comes the veteran vendor, the one with the glasses and 4 syllable last name that starts with M. He is announcing “last call.” I don’t know about Citi Field but at Shea there were signs that said “no last call.”
Since Mets Police is fairly popular in Flushing maybe an Aramark supervisor can remind Mr. M of the guidelines.
Anyway, like Pavlovian dogs – uh oh, last call, we better get us some beer!
Why? The night is ending. It’s chilly. I don’t understand this drinking culture.
First inning, third inning, sunny day, I get it. Bottom of the 7th in April, do you need a beer?
