A Tale of Two Evenings

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the night I walked within three feet of Joe Montana, it was the night a malfunctioning urinal made like Old Faithful and literally showered me in pee water, it was the moment I asked Jenny “Do you know who that was?”, it was the moment when the drunk guy who flushed said “I’m going to do it again just to be sure,” it was the pause before she looked at me, it was the pause before the urinal sure enough did it again, it was the way she said “No—who?”, it was the way the waitress didn’t offer to take anything off our bill but wanted to know if we were going to stick around for the live music.

I would have asked Joe to sign my shirt. But then I would’ve had to burn it.

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