I'm still recovering from eating my way through the Mariners' game last night. I managed to put down a pulled pork sandwich, two beers, some of Liz's garlic fries, a bite of Kate's Dippin' Dots, and a half a bag of Cracker Jack. The sad thing is that I was patting myself on the back—the part that I could still reach—for not eating a sundae or tucking into Kate's tray of nachos.
Take me out of my normal routine and I think I get a free pass on eating crappy food. Roadtrips usually mean rolling into a rest stop next to the turnpike and picking up an extra-value meal and a vat of Diet Coke. A business trip means I pack away frozen yogurt and, depending on the time, a bad stir fry or burrito in the terminal before rounding up a BLT and a candy bar or cookie for the flight itself. God forbid I feel a hunger pang at 30,000 feet.
But sporting events take the cake. Mmm, cake. When I was a kid, I played softball, but I also watched my brothers play Little League in back of Stump School or some other place around the area. I got bored quickly so I trolled the concession table, picking up Pixie Sticks and Pop Rocks, and washing it all down with a bottle of Orange Crush. I never felt good after eating all this stuff but I lost all self control when there was a box of Bubble Yum in sight. That hasn't changed; it's just that a piece of Bubble Yum would probably set me back $1.50 at Safeco Field.
By the way, the Mariners beat the Pirates 3-0, in case you were wondering.
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