There I was, all alone in a concession line on the east side of the stadium contemplating the meaning of life and what to buy for me and my kids to get us through the game. I order 3 waters to start since we're on the sunny side of the stadium. Damn nooners. The nice young lady behind the counter barks the order to her colleagues in the back and a few moments pass. I decide to throw caution to the wind and add a hot dog for me along with a pretzel for my kids. I begin to wonder how I will get this bounty down the long flight of stairs back to my seat without significant spillage. Even if I use a tray, it seems like a daunting task. It doesn't even occur to me one of the stadium attendants might ask to see my ticket stub (thankfully, they don't). As I was cursing my absence of forethought in not smuggling bottle caps in my pocket as suggested by my tailgate crew, the nice young lady tallies my order quickly in her head. Maybe there
is hope for the next generation. It comes to $22 and I give her a twenty and two singles, not wanting to tempt fate with the credit card machine. I consider the price to be neither a good nor bad deal. My attention shifts to the monitor next to the concession and I watch the ensuing Davidowicz kickoff sail into the end zone. I could get used to seeing that. A few more seconds pass. Lo and behold, for the first time in many years, I am handed 3 CAPPED water bottles along with my food.
[FADE OUT]