All right, yes. It's basically another picture post. (Whispered aside: but I generously included a pretty embarrassing picture of me at the end, so you know, good things come to those who scroll through other people's photos. That's the saying, right?)
The story: last Friday Jim and I took off for the Palace, home of the Detroit Pistons, where Jim had scored some seriously great seats for a fraction of the normal price. AND free passes to the club room. Private bathrooms at a sporting event, ya'll! Can I get a what what? Then, during the raffle at the end of the pre-game chalk talk, Jim won court side tickets behind the basket. It was sweet. We actually felt like we had a better view of the overall game from our original seats though, so we kept switching back and forth between quarters. Sorry, people we kept stepping over! That's how the high rollers do it.
After collecting our tickets at will call, we were ushered from the packed atrium through heavy glass doors and into this plush and silent hallway through which one reaches the private suites and the club room. It would've felt a lot fancier if I were wearing perhaps my old prom dress instead of a jersey and jeans, but whatevs. Still cool. And the seats were even cooler.
As promised, here is this awesome picture of me tipsily clinging to a giant stuffed horse for balance. Er, I mean, posing with the Pistons mascot. Go team!
Wait, who IS that? Why, it looks like Renee Zellweger gained thirty pounds, dyed her hair brown and tied one on! But why is she accosting that horse?
In my (weak) defense, it was a really stressful two and a half hour drive to the Palace- we hit Friday rush hour in Toledo and Detroit. By the time we got to the game I was desperately in need of both food and a chill pill. Unfortunately the chill pill, aka cocktail, arrived before the food, and I was apparently too hungry/stressed to make wise decisions like waiting until I had eaten something. Plus, the drink was being served to me in a private lounge instead of from a scowling vendor! What's a girl to do?
Still, that horse didn't have to squirm away so quickly. Like he's never been hugged by a drunk person before, geez.