We've been spoiled as to Jazz games.
If we are further than 5 rows from the court, we scoff.
If our ticket prices are less than 3 digits, we scorn.
If the family in front of us isn't orange we pity them.
Ok, just kidding. The family in front of us WAS orange, but Nate couldn't understand why. I told him tanning, but I could tell he was still confused. Problemes du riche I say.
Nate gets tickets for free from schmoozers, usually insurance-related, and we really have been spoiled. This is his third game so far this year, and that's after having turned down a few tickets.
We used the old Crown Burger parking strategy, which doubles as a good burger dinner.
At the game, the fella behind me spilled his beer which went all down my coat and pooled around my purse; it was my first time every coming home smelling like alcohol (and hopefully my last--it was awful). He really didn't mean to and when he was trying to clean it up I looked him in the eyes and he looked so sad and sort of scared, I just couldn't make it a big deal. Made me glad I never gave in and bought an expensive leather purse like I wanted to.