Two for the road

Last night I participated in a focus group focussed on the popular opinion of a prominent product, and the opinion of the marketing for that product.

The product? Beer.

I arrived at the designated office at the appropriate time, signed in, and took the elevator to the fourth floor.

They had piped-in elevator music IN THE ELEVATOR.

I would have ridden that elevator to the top floor of the building if I could have. That was practically the highlight of my whole night. An elevator, with music, I thought those had become extinct in the modern age.

I say it "would have" been the highlight of the night because when I got up to the focus group they provided the actual highlight: Free Beer.

That's right. I was asked to participate in a group to talk about beer, and in return I was given $70 cash money, elevators with music, and free beer.

We sat around, the six of us in the focus group, assigning personalities to different beer brands, talking about our tastes, likes and dislikes, and sipping on cold beers that come in green bottles from other countries.

It was not a bad way to spend a thursday evening in the summer when there is no Red Sox game on.

The only better way to spend a weekday evening in the summer is to pitch the game of your life in wiffleball, which is what I had already accomplished on Wednesday, the day before the beer study.

I had every one of my pitches working for me: curve, sinker, knuckleball, riser, slider, knuckle-curve, cutter, you name it, I was throwing it, and throwing it for strikes.

I pitched a two-hitter through twenty-two innings. The game was tied at sunset the end of regulation, but we kept playing, because you can't end in a tie.

The game went for six more innings through dusk/twilight/navyblue without any runs scoring, and we still kept playing after pitch dark. When it was physically impossible to see the ball, the strike zone, or the other fielders we finally suspended the game on accoun of darkness.

A 1-1 tie through (approximately) thirty-seven innings. I'd given up five hits, and struck out sixty-eight batters (we play two outs an inning, there were four ground outs).

I'd be making millions in the big leagues if I could throw a baseball half as well as I can throw a wiffleball.

Instead, I got a night off, seventy bucks, and some free beer.

and don't forget the elevator music.
-t

recommended download:
The Ike Reilly Assassination, My Wasted Friends
Morcheeba, Everybody Loves A Loser
Bowling For Soup, Almost