During the Keith Hill experience (Person2PersonGate), a few friends commented that a situation like that would only happen to me. I am not a drama queen, nor am I a drama magnet, but I do seem to attract…randomness. It’s like that commercial featuring M. Night Shyamalan he’s in a restaurant and everywhere he turns there’s eerie supernatural weirdness. Only for me, it’s more earthly weirdness. Case in point I’m at lunch with Mom and Granddad today. We’re at an old school place (Barbecue Inn) at Crosstimbers and Yale. I highly recommend it, by the way. The restaurant, waitresses and most of the clientele have all been there for fifty years. There is an entire table of blue-haired women dressed up in purple dresses wearing red hats. Our waitress calls us “hon” and “dear.” I go to the potty after the meal, and as I come out of the stall, there’s a woman standing there in a panic. As she’s taking off her shirt, she asks me to see if there’s “an ant or something” crawling around on her ample back because “it itches like the devil.” As I’m peering across the vast expanse of this woman’s freckled back, all I can think is, “of course.”

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