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Taken

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It was a hot summer day. I was impatiently waiting for the person in front of me to hand the man his ticket. He was taking forever. I had finally managed to get my hands on two tickets to the baseball game for me and my girlfriend. It had taken me almost a month to wrangle tickets from one of my friends, but finally I had managed to get two section 122, dugout seats. I was so happy to finally be able to spend a nice day with the one I love, because I had a busy work schedule, she had a busy schedule, you know how it goes.

Anyway after about fifteen minutes of roasting in the sun, the attendant yelled “next,” and we quickly rushed to hand him our tickets. I could already tell the day was going to be good, as I heard the roar of the crowd welcoming the home players onto the field, not to mention it was free shirt Friday. Oh and did I say we had dugout seats? Anyway we quickly made our way to our seats, because we wouldn’t want to miss the first pitch. The usher hustled us to our seats, and we finally were able to take a rest after our thirty minute ride into town, and not to mention our seemingly endless wait in line. We waited in anticipation for the loud voice to come on, yelling out the names of each of the away players, and the inevitable boo that every fan seems to know how to say at birth. Finally the pitcher took the mound, and the game was about to get on the road. I had only ever been to one or two baseball games before, and that was when I was a kid, so I was on the edge of my seat as I heard the ball whip past me and into the broad grasp of the catcher. Ninety miles per hour, boy was that amazing. The teams switched sides, and now the home team was hitting, along with the hometown cheers echoing all around. Just as the last strike of the third inning was about to be thrown, my girlfriend and I hurriedly ran up the stairs two at a time, in order to beat the between inning rush to the snack bar.

I wanted to get something to eat, because I had not eaten since before I left the house, so I was starving. We hurried to the nearest concession in order to get our five dollar hot dogs. Isn’t that a rip-off? As soon as we got the food I realized that I had to go to the bathroom, so I gave the food to my girlfriend and told her I would meet her at the seats. As I walked into the bathroom a guy wearing a pair of obnoxious Ray Bands bumped into me, along with a “watch where you’re going.” I brushed him off, figuring I’d tell my girlfriend, what a jerk I had just seen at the bathroom.

I walked back to the seats, and shuffled back into my row of seats. As I was telling my girlfriend about the guy I ran into, I suddenly realized that my pocket felt a bit lighter. I scrambled in and realized my phone was missing. I knew I had brought it to the game, because I had been texting my buddy telling him how I had dugout seats for the game. It better not have dropped out of my pocket when I hit that guy with the sunglasses. I asked my girlfriend for her phone, and hurriedly dialed my own phone number. When I heard the ringing stop, I asked, “Hello, is anyone there?”

A few seconds later I heard, “I see you, you know where to find it,” and a beep.



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