These caps belong to my ex. They smell of unemployment and cheating, but with a little detergent you could wash that right out. In fact, my ex wore one of these very hats while on a date at Citi Field. Did I wear the other hat? No. I was laying in bed recovering from a surgery. But it’s possible the other lucky lady wore one of them while the two of them ate hotdogs. I wasn’t thinking about hotdogs; I was vomiting from post-surgery pain pills.
NY Mets Caps