"Don't work on Thursday night. We're going to a baseball game."
"Really?" Her dark eyes light up as she flashes a huge, gorgeous smile.
"Yea. I'll be able to explain it better if you actually see it."
She's Brazilian, so baseball to her is as foreign as soccer is to me.
"Hmm... what do I wear there?"
She starts defending herself almost instantly as I role my eyes.
"C'mon! I'm a girl. I have to know these things," she says.
I think for second.
"Well, in America, it's customary for women to go to baseball games topless."
She looks at me, her mouth agape in a half smile.
"I'm serious," I say. "I don't make these rules. It's just how things are here. Like how we use that American-standard measurement thing instead of the metric system. We're just born into it."
"Yes, well I guess I will be the only one that breaks that custom."
"Fine. Go ahead and do that. As long as your fine with standing out really badly and possibly being very uncomfortable."
She laughs at me, and it's her turn to roll her eyes. She already knows to never take anything I say seriously.
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Irish - hope you're well. Think you will like my latest blog.
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