My traveling partner, Wayne, and I have fallen into a comfortable rhythm during our many days together in the South.

He drives the rental car. (It’s not exactly devastating that, as a 23-year-old, I’m not allowed to drive it and instead have to sleep and read magazines on the road.) I’m in charge of finding us restaurants and touristy stuff to do. 

And today, we achieved the perfect equilibrium in this strange friendship that’s fallen into place very quickly, as only one developed through hours spent together in strange circumstances can. 

We found the balance between Wayne’s interests (baseball and history) and my interests (feminism and Madonna) when we stumbled across the baseball field used in the movie A League of Their Own. 

That also happens to be the third-oldest field in the country, with character and charm just oozing out of its aged blue seats.