OK, see, I thought he said “Don’t mess with him. He stabbed me in the head with a fork once.” That’s what I wrote down, anyway. John seems to think he said, “…and then I took a fork to the head.”

We need clarification on this.

Earlier in the evening I was sitting at Tryst, contentedly reading a book and drinking coffee. Occassionally I would marvel at the vigor with which the yuppie lawyer guy on the next couch was picking his nose. After about 40 minutes of intense digging the likes of which I’ve honestly never seen before, he decided it was time to hit on the woman sitting at the other end of the couch.

When he stuck his hand out to shake her hand, she and I made eye-contact. She’d been monitoring the progress of his nasal excavation as well and did an impressive job of avoiding actually touching his hand. I wish I could describe the move, it was amazing.

Unfortunately, when we made eye-contact I started laughing hysterically. I tried to pretend that my book was a laugh riot.

That’s hard when you’re reading The Field Guide to Germs, I just have to tell you.

I’m not sure what happened after that as I went back ot reading my book, so there’s no real end to the story.

Remember kids, tomorrow is the day when Jesus rose from the grave, dressed as a rabbit, and hunted eggs.

Celebrate accordingly.