Plastic Fantastic

Plastic beer bottles- most people if given a choice wouldn't drink out of `em. I think they're great; no possibility of broke glass, easy to recycle, your friends can't do that trick where they smack the top of your bottle with their bottle and cause foam to shoot out all over, easy to twist off tops, can't chip your teeth on `em, and great for sporting events.

If you don't agree that's fine, but let me give you a hypothetical situation where a plastic bottle served as much more than just a beverage container. It served as a tool to try and teach someone manners, allowed a normally level headed guy to act on a situation and use the bottle where in a 'glass bottle situation' he would never consider such harsh actions to 'teach someone manners', and helped the police recognize a ballpark fan had way to much to drink.

*Note*
This is a totally hypothetical situation, and since I would never suggest anyone would take the risk of acting totally irresponsibly like the these hypothetical characters...I'll assume the risk and put myself in the situation to help the reader relate.

Here it is-

Say I was to be sitting in Safco Field, about 26 rows along the third baseline, enjoying the last few gulps of a Bud Light. Directly behind us is a group of sugar buzzed, Mariner crazed, 9yr old little league kids. 8th inning and no sign of the cotton candy high wearing off anytime soon.

So the little leaguers are razzin' everyone who walk by in Boston Red Sox gear. Most don't even pay attention, others shrug it off with a laugh, and one gangster lookin' guy can't handle the situation like an adult. When he walks by and gets heckled by the little league team he responds with a middle finger and a few words that can't be made out over ballpark crowd. This doesn't happen cause the guy isn't paying attention to who's razzin' him. He actually walks by a second time, but this time turning around and throwing his arms up as to guesture 'what?', or 'you wanna start trouble?', before once again giving the little league the middle finger.

Imagine me sitting there, enjoying the last few gulps of a Bud Light, and watching all this go down. Now imagine my Bud Light slipping out of my hand and heading in the direction of the guys back...now about 8 rows below us in the isle. Madness ensues around us and I simply stay seated while the guy, stadium staff, police, and little league parents, and random attendees, start yelling at each other. Little League parents and Mariner fans blaming the guy. The guy wanting to take everyone on. The police just trying to figure who's bottle slipped. Some wasted old guy was even pointing his finger at my deadlocked friend while yelling "trouble makers!".

Luckily all the attention was drawn away from me and my misplaced Bud Light. The police begin to direct all their attention on wasted old guy- to drunk to hardly speak, but he manages to shout above everyone else. The few that really saw what happened either sat there with their mouth shut, or patted me on the back. We would leave half way through the next inning.