The good way I mean. Not with a restraining order. Our man Michael Marotta from the Boston Phoenix, and the most singularly-minded single-serving Tumblr around , which you'll remember from this post a while back Watching Heidi Watney choke, better than watching Sox choke, finally has achieved his goal, namely, eating stuff next to Heidi Watney eating stuff.
And now that his blog goal has been achieved, the blog can go off to bloggy Heaven, where all good little blogs go, and play all day in the blog grass and run and jump and link to all the other friendly blogs forever and ever and there's no pain and also grandma is there.
Here's Michael's account of the most important thing to ever happen:
So I’m at the 8th annual Good Sports “Legends of the Ball” fundraiser at Royale on Thursday night because Crash Midnight was supposedly shooting a live video. I’m minding my own business, mindfully caressing my third complimentary Patron Perfect Cosmo (because I’m all class), listening to hosts Tom Caron of NESN and WEEI’s Glenn Ordway auction off a string of expensive sports-related prizes to a room full of khaki blazers and polo shirts (legitimately cool shit like Mike Cameron coming to your backyard for a game of whiffle ball, being allowed to operate the Green Monster scoreboard at Fenway, being able to watch the Rays beat the Sox in Theo’s suite, etc…) and then it happened.
I look to my left, and there she is — black blouse, black dress pants, black clutch in her right hand, and a plate of god-dam Upper Crust gourmet pizza in the other.
Heidi Watney is standing next to me, and she is eating. Go back and read that sentence again, because I can’t believe I just wrote it.
She mentions how good the pizza is, how all the food tables here look delish. I try not to act stunned. I try to play it cool, act like we’ve been BFFs forever and that she’s not my biggest crush ever. But I’m nervous as shit, and my lady friend on my right (entirely cool with my fawning) shoots me the biggest WTF/OMG/NOWAY look ever. Seriously WHAT ARE THE ODDS that the dude she randomly approaches with a plate of pizza at some $150-ticket fund raiser thing just so happens to have created a slightly creepy website detailing all the nasty-ass ballpark grub she stuffs into her beautiful, lovely mouth. My life is not real.
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4 comments:
That's how she holds a slice?
The only acceptable way to hold a slice of pizza is alone at home when no one is looking.
Jesus post a snippet or something.
woops. trimmed.
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