Thursday, May 27, 2010
Up to Speed Part 1
Oh, so, here's a bit of catch up.
Just when I started feeling back to normal after the marathon and ready to hit the gym again, work started picking up. As you may know I was working for four tutoring companies, but that has since narrowed to two. One of these is a hospital tutoring company that only cares about money and the other is a test prep company that is really spectacular to work for. To the former I am only a body that meets with kids whose schools pay the bill. To the later, I have been deemed one of their top tutors and have become a hot commodity when it comes to subject tests. I stayed with the hospital company because it gave me a chance to work with patients in various hospitals. Nevertheless, both of these jobs started producing and the result was a 90 hour work week. That's right, 90 hours crammed into one week. That includes the 20 or so hours of commuting I do weekly around the great Boston region. After this 'marathon' work week (get it?!) needless to say I was pretty spent and ready for a night off, which leads to my first story.
On May 10th, the Bruins were about to play Game 5 against the Phillies in a series that turned out to be one of the biggest chokes in professional playoff hockey history, and I was walking home from the local hospital where I work. It had been another day of busy tutoring and I was ready to call it a night and catch up on some much needed sleep. As I entered my building I noticed another man going for the door. He was several steps behind me, but I decided to hold to door nonetheless. After doing so I started my trek up the stairs toward to elevator. The man, who I later found out was also named John, turned an went toward the concierge, but all of the sudden stopped short and turned toward me.
"You wouldn't happen to be interested in going to the Bruins game tonight would you?" he asked.
"Umm...possibly," I replied turning toward him. "Are you selling a ticket or something?"
"Well I bought 4 tickets, one for me and three for my sons. However, one of my sons is sick and can;t make it to the game."
He handed me the ticket, which clearly said $152.00.
"I'm sorry, I can't afford that."
"Well it wouldn't be for face value, of course," he quickly spat back. "What do you think a fair price would be?"
"I can't pay what I think is a fair price."
"$40" he said before my words had time to echo.
"Done" I said just as quickly.
As I fished around in my wallet for what ended up being $38 dollars, he handed me the ticket and said, "Tell you what, if you come to the game tonight, just buy us some beers or something and we'll call it even."
" Are you sure? I can go to an ATM real quick."
"As long as your the one coming to the game and not selling the ticket, it's ok."
"Oh I'll be there."
After quickly changing into the only Bruins shirt I had, the one I got from donating blood at the arena, I went to the ATM and headed for the game.
Upon meeting John and his two sons, I immediately offered to buy a round of beers. However, his sons were both underage (one a senior in high school and the other a freshman in college). I offered pop, but both were fine and John was content. I settled into my seat to watch the first period. But this wasn't just any seat. The ticket was $152.00 for a reason. I was seated at center ice in the 14th row, just above the glass. I felt like I was watching a high school hockey game, except it wasn't high school. At the first intermission, John and I headed up to the concessions for a round of hot dogs and a few beers. Upon ordering the beers, the clerk asked for my ID, and I proudly produced my Minnesota ID. After a brief inspection, he said, "You have to be 25." After a brief moment of shock and disbelief I curtly asked him is this was indeed the United States of America to which responded with an unintelligible confirmation. To this I looked at John, who, by the way, had left his wallet and thus his ID at his house on Cape Cod, and simply shook my head. Upon paying for these thirst provoking hot dogs, John told me that we were even. I offered to pay for whatever else they wanted that night which turned out to be nothing. During the course of the evening I offered to pay John the $40 I promised, but he simple refused and thanked me for the hot dogs. The Bruins proceeded to play terribly and the Phillies walked away with an easy victory. Despite the loss, it was a great evening and I enjoyed every minute. All said, that is how I was able to sit at center ice for a playoff game for the price of three hot dogs.