To the guy who sold us counterfeit tickets to the Yankees game

"Hi Bryan, this is Mik. Listen, if you get this message, don't get on the train, don't check your bag, don't get in line. The tickets are counterfeit. Bogus. We're going home."

Hey dude — thanks for the tickets.

No seriously — thanks. I didn't want to see Carlos Delgado's 9 RBI game, or go to the last Mets/Yankees game in the Stadium. Why would I? I could always just walk around before the game, alone, with nowhere to go, right?

Go to the bars in front of the Stadium? The ones that have charged me up to $2 more per beer for sporting Red Sox gear? Nah, I don't think so.

Take a trip around the Stadium? Sounds great! Oh wait, there are crowds everywhere. Can't get through 'em. Do I need a ticket? Sure do? How much? $100? What a coincidence! That's what I paid!

Just go home? Love to! Except the swarms of people leaving the train are boxing me onto River Avenue. Behind me, a Yankees fan yells to anyone in orange and blue: "You got the wrong hat! This is the Stadium. You're in the wrong borough. This isn't Queens!"

And you know what, he's right, this isn't Queens. You could find Queens on a map of New York City, right? Yeah, it's right at the tip of my middle finger, there. I'm going there now and watch the Yankees lose by 10. That's a football score.

Which leaves me one question:

Want Giants tickets, asshole?