I am not a high-five kind of guy. That is, I need a very good reason to high five someone. First, let me give you a little background: Last year, my casino host from Caesars Entertainment got 3 tickets for me and my two sons (aged 29 and 35 at the time) to attend a baseball game at Citi Field in Queens, New York. I am not a sports fan and I rarely go to any games, baseball (less than a half-dozen in my life), basketball (two) or football (zero); however these were box seats at a VIP club behind first base.
The club features two outdoor patios with tables to hold our drinks and food. A waitress comes by every so often with complimentary soft drinks, coffee, hot dogs, snacks, beer and more. In between innings or if we don't want to wait to be served, we can go into the climate-controlled space behind us where we make our own salad, pour a cup of coffee, pull a beer out of the fridge or just relax and lounge on a couch to watch the game on a big-screen TV. How could I refuse to go?
There is one problem though. The club box holds 20 guests and the other 17 were high-fiving each other too often for my taste. If a Mets player caught an inning-ending fly, there were high fives. If a Mets player hit a homer, there were high fives. I believe high fives should be reserved for a game-changing homer, not every homer, but one that reverses a downward slide. My sons and I are not guys that high five lightly.
There are two exceptions that might induce me to high five:
- My team is 3 runs behind at the bottom of the ninth inning with 2 outs and my favorite player with 3 balls and 2 strikes hits a grand slam homer. Or something similar in life.
- In the following situation:
Oh, wait. As I'm writing this I thought of a Third exception: I would high five any scientist who discovers an aerosol that when sprayed in the face of a Muslim raises his IQ 20 points rendering the person unable to further believe in Islam; for a more detailed explanation, see my article Muslim IQ.
This story covers item #15 from my post Things I have Done