Twenty-three. Leaving New York (for now, but I'll return in a few days)... I'm heading to Philly to see my other sister, more baseball, and more Phish... I pulled into Sherrie's hood (Washington Square East) in the middle of rush hour and found myself wandering aimlessly searching for a parking spot for forty minutes... not so fun... but I finally found a garage and stashed it for the night. She lives with her boyfriend Chris in a sweet Phila nook in Center City... I dig it. My dad drove down separately from New York; we all met up at Sherrie's and headed down to Citizen's Bank Park to catch the bad guys play the Cleveland Indians.
I don't like Philadelphia sports teams. There, I said it. And, as much as I enjoy being at a ballpark with my dad, it was tough to see the Phillies complete a walk-off win in the bottom of the ninth... but The Mets are still in front (though it's only June)...After the game, we headed back to Sherrie's place and walked down to a local dive: Dirty Frank's. Dirty Frank's is an instant classic and apparently has a way of sucking you in... we intended to have a drink and head back home but found ourselves walking out with the lights going on and the stools going up. It was a great way to kick off the Philly visit though (all but the Phillies winning)... oh, and I really dislike the Philly Fanatic too... he's such a tool.
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