I have a big problem with Little League Baseball. In the middle of the parking lot is a blue building, it’s called The Snack Bar. During one of the 800 two hour long baseball games this weekend, I merrily trotted over to The Snack Bar hoping to quench my thirst.
“I’ll have a hot dog and a glass of Malbec please.” I told the gal at the counter.
“Uh, I don’t think we have Mal-beck.” she answered.
“Oh, okay then a glass of Merlot.” I said.
Then she went to get her mom, who was not thrilled that I’d asked her tween for booze.
“But it’s a Bar!” I plead.
“It’s a snack bar.” and she wasn’t smiling.
Y’all snack your way, but if you’re going to call it a Snack Bar, I damn well expect some booze there.
Please sign your name below and let Little League of America know that us Mommies are onto their false advertising. I’m going to have to go out on a limb and demand that Little League gives me the bar they told me I’d get.