Dartmooooth

I have so much blog mooterial in my head that it's hard to get any of it out. When this happens while I'm talking and I audibly stutter, I compare it to eight burly guys trying to run through a doorway at the same time. None of them quite make it through.  Speaking of burley guys...

 

This one is getting his very own blog post. I don't even know his name, but I told him today I'd be calling him Dartmoooth because he and the people at his table were all decked out in the college's dark green gear.

 

Sally and I were enjoying lunch at Mystic Pizza when his party walked up the stairs. I see the gear. I feel the testosterone and I notice the wheels turning in his head as he takes in our costumes. I'm bracing myself for some inappropriate comment as soon as he sees the udders.  It never came. At least, I didn't hear any. 

 

He and his table of buddies and wives and kids were great. I quickly explained my blog and less than five minutes later he belted out, "What's your tattoo?" I was thinking, "What? Are they talking to me? Psychic jocks in Mystic Pizza?" Seeing my confusion, he held up his phone. He'd seen my blog from yesterday.

 

He cheerfully asked if he could take our picture. We said, "Sure!" He said, "Can I be in it?" We said, "Of course!" He said, "Can I get it with you each kissing my cheek?"  

 

"Dude are you serious? I need some gum." I didn't have any gum. I must start carrying gum with the cow suit because anything can happen.

 

As Sally and I left one of the kids in green at their table yelled out, "Why are you dressed as a cow?" I quickly replied with outstretched, welcoming here-I-am arms, "Because it's fun!" 

 

Dartmooooth was fun today.  Cheers, Man!