Okay, okay. I'll admit that I knew I was asking for it when I picked out my clothes for work this morning. Phillies are playing today; may as well show my Phillies pride. And I put on my red Phillies shirt with Utley's name on the back. Who knew it would turn out to be such a conversation piece!
Ryan, one of my co-workers, was the first to comment. "I love that you're wearing a Chase Utley shirt," he remarked, and then went on to talk about how no one can hate Chase Utley, even if they hate the Philies. My brother, the avid Mets fan, would probably disagree; but if that's what you think, I'm not going to argue with you. But then the manager came in: "I have extra sidework for you today because of the shirt you're wearing." And I got to count bags of tea. Many bags of tea.
"Your boy is slipping," said an almost-homeless-looking man to me on the corner as I waited to cross the street to meet Ellen after work. Since I know that I don't hide my emotions well, I'm sure that the confusion was written all over my face. He gestured to my back. "Utley. He's slipping. But don't you worry, he'll come back! I'm a Philly boy myself!" Phew, I'm glad we're on the same side here!
Ellen and I went to the Museum Mile Festival (one of the many cool things in NYC-- all the museums on Museum Mile were free, and there were vendors and street performers all along Fifth Avenue). First we walked to the Guggenheim Museum to see how long the line was. To our surprise, there wasn't a line at all! So we headed towards the door. Only to discover that there was no line because we were going in the exit instead of the entrance.... which the security guard announced very loudly: "This is the EXIT; no entrance! Especially," and his voice got louder as he pointed at my shirt, "to people wearing shirts like THAT." I laughed and we started to walk away, but he kept going. About how he was a Yankees fan and something about the World Series. Blah. Blah. Blah.
The line was huge, so we kept walking. At the Jewish Museum, we discovered there was a Curious George exhibit (!), and the line wasn't long, so we headed in. The usual bag search, and then two security guards with metal detectors yelling "take out whatever you have in your pockets and hold it in your hand!" I dutifully took out my cell phone and approached the guard. He took one look at my shirt and waved me through with a look of disgust: "What? The Phillies? Go on, get out of here!" No metal detector for me; he didn't want to be in that close proximity to a Phillies fan, I guess.
All I can say is, I'm sure glad we won tonight-- I think I did my part to support the team. :)
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