Today is the day I hand over most of what is left in my checking account to the Cubs in exchange for them letting me sit in my seat to watch them lose.
This will be my eleventh season in Aisle 424 and I don't believe the fat guy in the ticket office has thanked me yet when I drop off my check. Not that I'm bitter.
The Cubs made a big deal about improving customer service and building relationships with their season ticket holders this year. After losing in staggering fashion again last year, plus removing two fan favorites (not saying they weren't prudent baseball moves, but nevertheless Wood and DeRosa were extremely popular, especially with the ladies), not increasing their budget for salaries (citing the economy & unsettled team sale), they went ahead and raised our ticket prices anyway. A thank you when I hand over $3,000 for a single seat (in this economy) is the LEAST I should get. I would think a hug would be in order. Maybe flowers?
But all I want is the fat guy in the booth to say thank you. Once. He doesn't even have to mean it. Just say the words.
I'll let you know how it goes.
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