It's not global warming...

...it's just me, being hyper*


Some years ago, Wife and I journeyed across the United States. Along the way, we stopped in New Orleans, where we enjoyed food, scenery and music. After a riverboat cruise made soggy with the red beverage Hurricane, we stepped boozily landward where we were confronted by two con fellows. One said to me, through my haze, “I bet you I can tell you the name of the street where you bought those sneakers you’re wearing.”

“No you can’t!” I said. I don’t remember the rest of the conversation. In an attempt to convince me with dream logic that he had won our bet, he began shining my sneakers, for which it was decided that I would pay ten dollars. Somewhere in there, the other fellow attempted to shine Wife’s sneakers as well, but she backed away.

“Okay,” said my con fellow. “ten dollars for your shine, and ten for your lady’s. That’s twenty dollars you owe me.”

“I don’t think so,” I replied, handing him a ten.

His jaunty manner shifted and he revealed his true identity. In an icy monotone, he said, “Uh’m gonna gitchyew down a back alley and f--- you up.”

Wife and I turned and fled. But not before I cursed the con fellows with, “One day you and your filth will be awash in the cleansing waters of the hurricane.”

And so it came to pass.


* from a 1983 commercial for something, forgotten by all except me and maybe a man named Alan and maybe a man named Scott **

** does that sound gay?