At some point in the 1st inning, I got up to get a beer. It should be noted a concession stand was directly behind our section (lower level behind home plate), and I simply walked past it. In fact, I just kept on wandering around the stadium. I was upstairs. I was downstairs. I made it all the way around the ball park at least once, posting picture of where I was, as well as drunk selfies on Facebook as I went along.
By this point, my wife was wondering where I was, and as she didn't bring her cellphone, it wasn't until her sister checked her phone for my number (which she apparently didn't have), that she noticed Facebook notifications of pictures I took where she and my wife were tagged, that anyone knew where I was! Hell, I didn't always know where I was.
At one point, I opened a dark steel door and walked down a nearly black, concrete hallway, proceeded down some stairs, passing a couple of guys who asked me if I were lost ("Not all who wander are lost!" or something like that was probably my reply), and arrived at what I think was an off-limits area under the stands, perhaps near the locker rooms, but I can't be sure. About that time I saw about some guys in suit coats, who stood quietly and stared intently at me.
They didn't say anything nor confronted me, but I figured I'd wandered far enough and turned back. I can't even tell you I found my way back to the original door I entered through. I don't recall where in the stadium I eventually popped up at. More Facebook posts followed of course, and those who were looking at the pictures and reading my posts were being thoroughly entertained! 
Eventually, I made my way back to my seat--and yes, I did get that beer I originally set out for--just in time for our little group to be escorted up to where select people go to sing "Take Me Out to The Ballgame" during the 7th inning stretch. I guess that's a thing.
So there I was, with my sister-in-law and about 3 other willing people broadcast on the stadium Jumbotron singing the song for thousands in attendance. With microphone in hand and an inability to feel shame in public even when sober, I proudly belted out the words, and the crowd joined in; at least those not in the bathrooms or getting their own brew during the break. A good time being had by all, no doubt.
Afterword, we were invited to take a picture with the team mascot, "T.C. Bear", and I handed off my phone to my long suffering wife to get the shot. In the photo, which I keep as my cellphone’s lock screen, I stand with a visor on my head upside-down and backwards looking like some d-bag frat boy--still drunk of course--with one arm around T.C. and we’re both throwing "duces" at the camera; all while T.C’s rather dour looking bodyguard stands close by.
I can't say I remember everything about that night. Don’t know the score; don’t know who won; hell, I don’t remember who we even played, but I do remember the highlights! And that's what counts!
Lastly, I must say, I take some surprisingly good pictures with my cellphone even when schnockered!
