Paul's Boutique

Hey Ladies

"Losson Park at noon, man...they got fences!!" Those were Saddy's words straight off the answering machine that I caught fresh out the shower. I guess that settles where I'm off to today.

Saddy's a sweet dude...his folks came over from Japan a couple years after he was born and opened up a restaurant, so he's acclimated. But at times he can still get caught up in awe of little things. Like diamonds with fences.

And Losson is a sick park. Well-manicured diamonds, grass that looks like a golf course, and always people passing through. Benches for spectators. And the fences. It's nice to know sometimes that you don't have to truck around the bases on a well-hit ball for it to be a home run. Not that my bat carries that much weight, but once in awhile it gets busy.

I found my pack after navigating the series of Losson's curves. It's a tricky park with subdivisions springing up all around it, and the diamonds are spread out over its expanse. Had I not heard Saddy's guffaws over the normal din of park bustle, I might still be circling the park looking for a place to play.

Something I'm not used to at the diamonds around my house are the girls who do nothing but gather to watch the ballplayers. Just sitting there, doing what girls my age do while we're sweatin'. We just play for our enjoyment and testosterone; we don't know much else. They're there to judge something other than themselves...how fast we run, how high our pop-ups go, what our chests must look like under our t-shirts. I just play ball, man. I'm nothin' to look at.

My first at-bat was a riot. With Saddy on the mound, he thought he had jokes. Knuckling down, not throwing the typical meatballs. He hung a curve behind my back, and his next offering was a fastball up around my chin. I jumped back and shook my head, not wanting him to know I was p*****. I just smiled while the four-spot of female appreciators giggled...and then I took Saddy's next pitch- a slider that cut almost to my knees- deep over the left-center fence. I knew it was gone the second I made contact. All it took was a half-step back in the box during my swing. Prepare for liftoff!

As I started my jog, all I saw from the girls were four dropped jaws. Didn't think I'd go yard on your boy? For extra mustard, I just shrugged at them. The score on the field became inconsequential...number 41 in the program, ladies and gentlemen, but number one in your hearts.

I try not to make playing the field an adventure. I love first base, but I'm not tall enough. The hot corner, third, is too much for me. Same with shortstop. Second is my home, and will be more so once I learn how to smoothly execute a double play. But I'll volunteer for first, because it's less work most of the time if you know how to catch. And that's where the girls sat. Put me in, coach! I'm ready to play!

And like a magnet, that's where the balls were hit. Trying to find the hole between me and second. I'm used to diving and getting dirty, but when the three up goes three down on my watch, well...I'm not ashamed about becoming fancy with the leather. What stifles an unsuspecting crowd? Being good.

Next inning, I led off. Saddy stopped playin' around, and he dropped a fat pitch in my wheelhouse. I could've been swingin' at a beach ball for all I knew. Deep to center, over the fence...good thing these kids came with a backpack of extra balls. "Two for two!" these girls started goin' on about. I never practiced my bat flips, because I didn't think I'd ever need to...just drop and go, and let my speed take over. But I've got a crowd now...gotta see how many end-over-ends I can make that stick do. Kelly likes that...the tallest. most vocal in the group. She's silly blonde too, which is my weakness in the ladies department.

As the game went on, I just kept crushing balls. So unlike me. I've always been a "put it on the ground and let your speed sort it out" kind of hitter. But today? Fences. Homer after homer. Good contact? More like best contact.

After we wrapped up and the local kids were going their separate ways, Saddy grabbed me and bro-hugged me tight. "Thanks for comin' out! Five homer-runs!" he exuded in his still broken English. Like he ain't never seen a kid do that before. Kelly broke away from her clique and stepped to me.

"Nice game! You're cute! Wanna hang out?" Sure, I guess...no one asks me to anyway. Especially not blondes built for endeavors involving me. The porn star qualities...them types don't look at me and think a trip on the nature trails will do either of us any good.

But there we went. And we gabbed. I went full-on mouth diarrhea. About baseball, about life. Nerd s***. And all she wanted to do was kiss a ballplayer down by the creek. I couldn't even do it. Not for me, and certainly not for her.

Kelly eventually grew a fat-squatting a** watching the basketball guys at Losson...but I loved her face. It stayed cute as all get-out as years would go on. And Saddy still calls me his homer-run champ-eee-on. I just wanna play, man. Fences or not.

Lyrics.  

Word Count: 929.