I'm in an open place, with scattered tables and a big screen TV, getting ready to watch a baseball game. People, I think my co-workers, are gathering and finding seats for themselves.

I'm with a girl, a southern-looking girl with long blonde hair, and we are seated at a table by a post, but I invite her to move up more toward the front, where I arrange some chairs, checking to make sure I'm not in anybody's way. But part of why I want to be there is to ask Dave J, who apparently arranged this with me, whether we are sure we are going to see the game, or if we should have purchased the stream. He seems confident that when the game starts, we'll see it.

I'm surprised how many people showed up, when it isn't even a critical game; it's the playoffs, but not the World Series, and not a season-ender for anybody.