So I'm at the Indians game Friday night (we have the fireworks package; our seats are pretty sweet, about 15 rows from the field, right at right field). Anyway, there are 2 guys in front of us, and one of them has a shirt on with a bunch of writing on it. My friend asks this guy what his shirt said (we couldn't make it out). He tells us that it's the name of the guy who owned the Indians way back when, their first owner. I asked him if he had owned the Spiders (the Cleveland team first who disappeared in 1899) or literally the Indians (came into existence a couple years later in 1901.) He starts calling me ESPN Classic.

We're talking, turns out he's 22. As in, years old. But he's sweet, and comments that my sports knowledge, tongue ring, and age are all hot. So basically, he's all complimentary, and as he's 22, that's sorta fun. (Hey, I am a girl...) When my friend and I mentioned we were attorneys, he asked for our cards. I gave him my (personal) card because that's all I have on me. He asked if that was my cell number and if he could call me. Despite the fact that he's 22, I said sure. (I'm not much into age differences, either signiicantly younger or older.) During the fireworks (actual fireworks, people!) he again asks if he can call me and if I have a boyfriend. I say yes and no respectively. Game ends, we leave. My friend and I go to the bar to meet some of my friends for a birthday celebration. Fun stuff. He calls while I'm at the bar, we briefly talk but it's hard to hear at the bar and I ultimately lost reception.

The next day, he calls around 11 *am* but I'm busy (actually, I'm at the bar. But a different bar than I was when he called 12 hours earlier. I'm registering teams for a scavenger hunt. I tell him I'll call him when I get a chance, and do several hours later, leaving a VM. Around 11 pm he calls again and we are talking, He asks when I'll next be at the Indians game, and says he doesn't want to wait until mid-May to see me, can he come up next weekend. Sure, fine. (I know, I know, 22...) He then tells me to call his friend about a testical festival that he went to (I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried). Ok, fine, whatever. (By the way, I had never even heard of a testical festival so I Googled it and came to some frightening things.)

So I call his friend, and as I don't remember his friend's name (we didn't really talk at the game), when he answers, I say, "it's Stephanie, from the Indians game last night." He remembers me b/c he calls me ESPN Classic. So we start talking, and during this conversation with the friend, a few interesting things happen: (1) he reveals that the 22-year-old has a girlfriend (who, incidentally, made them come home after the game because she heard the two of them talking about us); (2) the 22-year-old calls me to see why I didn't call him back after calling his friend; and (3) the friend asked me out.

All of which leave me convinced that men are the most confusing, disturbing creatures ever.

However, women may be the most immature creatures ever. We were at dinner Saturday and our friend freaks out how he has to leave without his food because he has a date. (It took over an hour to get our food.) Big mistake. After quizzing about the girl, we spend time trying to figure out where his date is. He won't tell us, but he's not much of a poker player, so we think we've figured it out. He leaves, we eat, we go to meet some friends at another bar, and at the bar, my friend and I get this great idea to walk to the bar where we believe his date is. We don't want to say anything to him or her, we just want him to see us so that he wonders if we will. You know, make him squirm a bit. So we do that and see him at te bar, sitting by the window. We walk by slowly but aren't sure if he sees us, so walk by a second time. Slowly. This time, he sees us for sure, because he "stretches" and flicks us off. It was very smooth and I doubt she even noticed. Awesome. We literally could not stop giggling. Oh my god, we are so immature. It was awesome.