Saturday, December 1, 2007

My RingTone is "Enter Sandman"

This means that every time my cell phone rings, that unmistakeable bass chord riff prods my emotional muscle memory into expecting Mariano Rivera to jog in from the bullpen and nail down a Yankee win. That means I am in the 5th row of the Upper Deck, just above the Yankee dugout, at Yankee Stadium, full of Carvel, Cokes and Italian sausage, peeing my pants.

Only I'm not there, I'm at home, in my office, guzzling coffee and writing letters and making phone calls. Then, suddenly, the riff starts, and my heart thinks Mariano is going to come running in from the kitchen. Plus, my muscle memory needs to get up, loft my right fist into the sky, Jeter-style, and start headbanging....

Often, I let the phone ring a while, so I can enjoy the buildup. If I get to the part where the crescendo happens, the place where you start head-banging with abandon, the call goes to voice mail. So I have to answer before I really lose it...which is kind of like something else that's like trying to hold back a sneeze.

So usually when I answer, I just start cracking up...because it's so ridiculous to have "Enter Sandman" play every time I get a phone call. And yet it's hilarious because I get to have these insane little "Woopie, woopie!" moments at odd times throughout my day.

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