The Perfect Seat

The Perfect Seat

The best thing about this place is the noise.

Not to knock the food. Or the Comedy Gold of the people who come here. Sports fans who’ve been drinking are great for You Tube videos.

But I like the noise.

I’m not a big fan of it when I’m at home.

That’s why I have a house that is truly out in the middle of nowhere. The wind through the trees with the calls and cries of the wild animals that live out there? That’s the only noise I need in my life.

The noise that’s all around me now? At The Meloni Family Sports Stadium in downtown Burning Tree, Idaho?

Perfect. It helps me with my work.

Burning Tree is just a hop-skip-and-jump outside of Boise. The Meloni family built a first-class place for sporting events and live music.

Whenever I get a job in Idaho, I hope it’s near Boise. And I hope there is something going on in the arena. Something that will help me get my work done fast and easy.

You would think that a quiet place might be better. And you’d be wrong.

All the damn security cameras that people can hide around their houses? REAL pain in the neck.

Sure. There are tons of cameras in arenas, but there’s also tons of people. Makes blending in so much easier.

This isn’t the only arena or stadium I use for my job.

Thanks to my work, I’ve been able to see most professional football and baseball teams play some incredibly exciting games.

And then there’s the music. I’ve had the chance to see top-tier rock bands, to attend multi-day musical festivals and even some operas.

Noise and crowds are what I like when I have to work.

Tonight’s match-up has the Boise Battlers and the Helena Heroes going head-to-head and toe-to-toe in a football game that’s being broadcast internationally.

When I accepted this job, the folks who hired me offered to throw in a free five-figure bet on the team of my choice.

This was an inter-league match. That much I knew when I first took the job. I had to do a little searching to find out that the two teams were the favorites to be their leagues’ offering in this year’s Super Bowl.

I can usually get my own seat at these events. Part of the cost of doing business, but they’d had been sold out for weeks. The people who hired me had no problem getting a ticket for me. In fact, they insisted on it. Said it would be the perfect seat for me.

And it was the end of the row. Easy moving.

I picked the Heroes for my free bet.

There are fans who have charts and graphs and algorithms, who know the diet that the quarterbacks are on, who know which player has what addiction that the owners do their best to keep hidden…all that.

And, when they use it to calculate the odds, they only hit about 8% of the time.

One guy I worked with when I was part of a crew had a wife who would bet on which team had the nicer-looking uniform, in her opinion.

She hit 60% of the time.

The Heroes have better looking uniforms than The Battlers.

In my opinion.

And it was a free bet, anyway. A little icing slapped on top of a cake that already has plenty on top.

I took a trip to one of the food stands just as the game started. It’s important to blend in with the crowd.

One thing that I have going for me, in my line of work, is that I look so normal.

Plain-looking guy, pass you on the street, you might remember one or two things about me.

I’ve had folks I worked with in the past walk up to me and not realize that they were standing next to me.

I got back to my seat and asked the guy to my left what had happened when I was gone. He said, “Nothing yet.” He and the guy he came with had Battlers shirts on. I had heard him tell that guy he was going to get corn dogs on the first break. Apparently, they had a first-class kind here.

I brought back three and, after I wolfed down two, I offered the third to him.

“Woof!”, I said. And patted my gut. “Shoulda skipped breakfast.”

He laughed, showed his friend the corn dog and made quick work of it.

I had added a little something to it before I came back to the seats.

He wiped his hands on his jeans and stuck out his right one. “Tommy Branson.”

I made a fist instead of shaking his hand and said, “Mel Hobson.”

He clenched his hand and fist-bumped mine. “Like the actor?”

“Nah,” I said. “That’s ‘Mel Gibson’. And I’m too ugly to be an actor.”

Tommy gave that a short ‘haw’ laugh. “Who you rooting for?”

I told him but left out the why.

“You from up around that way?” he said.

“That I am,” I lied. Then we rambled on about how inter-league games are better than plain old league games along with the chances of this game leading to a Super Bowl rematch.

The Battlers scored a touchdown and the fans were of their seats, cheering.

I didn’t stand up, but I did high-five Tommy and his friend when they sat back down.

“You got class,” Tommy said. Then he burped. “Oo! Return of The corn dog.”

He got up and announced he was making a food run. His friend put in his order and Tommy offered to get me a corn dog and a beer.

“No on the dog and I’ll take a cola if you’re buying,” I said.

“Not a fan of beer?”

“Not a fan of drinking beer, then driving home after the game.”

His friend threw a thumbs-up at me and Tommy nodded. “Long haul. 7-8 hours each way.”

“I lucked out on this ticket, and I gotta get back to work tomorrow.”

Tommy pointed at me and said to his friend, “Now THAT is a fan.”

He took off for the food.

His friend reached over to fist-bump me and introduced himself. “I’m Don, Mel…so…what do you do for a living?”

“I have a used car lot. Mel’s Motors.”

Don took out his phone and did some thumb and finger movements. He looked puzzled. “No website?”

“Don’t need one. Got the family ancestral home, no mortgage, not married, so life’s simple. And cheap. Word of mouth keeps me in business just fine.”

Tommy came back with the repast. He handed me my soda and split four corn dogs and two beers with Don.

I popped the lid off the cup and drank a bit. I tossed the lid under my seat and put the soda down next to my left leg.

I had slapped some wet silicone on my fingertips and let it dry before I came to the stadium.

The crowd started screaming. An angry scream.

The Heroes were making a comeback, so I stood up and cheered. And got booed by some folks behind me.

Touchdown! Kick good! Tie game!

I sat back down, grabbed my soda, and drank some more.

Tommy and Don raised their beer to me. “Good game. Montana Mel!”

“Tied up and tight!”

I put my soda down by my left foot as Tommy was putting his beer down. Next to mine. “Left-handed.” he said.

“I am.”

“Be careful. You don’t wanna grab my beer by mistake.”

I laughed for a micro-second then looked worried.

“Oh crap…”

The announcer was babbling away!

The Battlers were running the ball hard, trying to take back the game!

“Yeah!” Tommy said. He and Don stood to cheer.

I reached into my left pocket, took out a pill, and dropped it into Tommy’s beer. It dissolved instantly.

The Battler’s run ended with no score and the ball was back to the Heroes.

“Damn,” Tommy said. He polished off what was left of his food and drained his cup.

The Heroes started another march down the field and the local fans were not happy.

“Good thing you don’t have a Heroes shirt on, bud,” Don said.

“I learn from experience.”

Tommy and Don laughed and gave me a ‘you’re alright’ nod.

A few minutes passed, and the ball went back to the Battlers. No score by the Heroes.

“This is gonna be one hell of a game,” I said.

I glanced at Tommy and saw that he looked a little green around the gills. I drained my cup and stood up.

“Gotta hit the head, gents.” I looked at the scoreboard. Half-time was still ten minutes away and the crowd would be glued to their seats.

Tommy belched. “Wow. I think I’ll come with you.”

“You okay? Don said.

“Too many dogs too quick, I think,” Tommy said.

“Need some help?” I said and held out my hand.

Tommy waved it away. “I can manage.” He got up and belched again.

Don said. “I’ll keep your seats safe while you two girls go powder your noise.”

We both flipped Don off and headed up the stairs.

“People actually take your seats if you go to the can…”

“Not our seats,” Tommy said. “Don will just flash his badge, like this…” Tommy took out his wallet and flashed his own.

“Oh wow! You guys are cops! That’s why you noticed I’m left-handed.”

Tommy nodded but did not smile. He looked like he might not make it to the bathroom in time.

“Right now, we’re just off-duty cops. Watching a game and drinking beer,” Tommy said and then wavered a little. “Shit. Let’s move.”

We got to the top and he pointed to the right, toward a men’s room.

We went in and there were two other guys there washing their hands.

The announcer started a rave about the Battlers heading back down the field and the two guys booked.

Tommy walked over to a urinal, thought better of it, and headed for a stall.

I was right behind him. Walking softly.

When he entered the stall, I railroaded him, shoving him face first against the back wall, putting all my weight behind it.

Hard!

The announcer was screaming.

Tommy’s head bounced off the wall. He was dazed and had a gash on his forehead that was gushing blood.

This slam and the pill I’d put in his drink, along with the drug in the dog, turned him into a rag-doll.

I grabbed his shoulders from behind and whispered, “Traffic stop? Last month? That young girl you raped? Her dad says hi. And bye.”

I reared back and slammed his head down onto the toilet.

His neck snapped and he drooped to the floor.

I opened the door.

No one was there.

The fans were manic!

The announcer was working them into a frenzy!

The noise covered whatever I did.

I washed my hands and headed for another men’s room.

Hit a stall and turned my shirt and slacks inside out so they were another color. I took out an American flag bandana and did a head wrap.

Then I popped out the blue contacts I’d been wearing over my dark brown eyes and flushed them away.

I left the stadium in a car that would disappear sometime tomorrow in a car crusher.

Three days later, I was back home. Far away from Boise and Helena. I’d shaved my hair off so it would grow back in its natural color.

I saw Don on a newscast giving a description of the suspect. Other than ‘white’, I didn’t look anything like who he was describing. All the lies I’d told had done their job.

I wouldn’t have to work for quite a while as I not only got well paid for the job, but the Heroes had also won the game.

And there was one less piece of garbage on the planet.