So I was at lunch with my lady love today and she was writin’ some stuff on this little pad, because a.)she was technically “at work”, and b.)at this point, I’m providing uninteresting lunchtime conversation fodder. She set her pen down in a quick exchange for her fork and the pen began its slow roll toward the edge of the table. Just as it rolled off and began its descent onto the multi-hued carpet, I caught it. Technically, I saved the pen. What happened next was just plain weird. I began to feel my face getting itchy. My normally stubbly facial hair was growing at Teen Wolf speed into a wholly generic shape commonly exhibited by people under the age of 25. I had a long tuft covering my chin and extending south a couple of inches. I had mutton chops. All of this happened in the span of 20-30 seconds. Next thing I know, while still holding the pen and with my new found facial hair, I began gesticulating wildly to the other diners. I knew they had seen me save the pen and they knew I knew how friggin’ cool I was for doing so. It was a coolness ‘splosion and I was the detonator. You may be asking yourself if I am making too big of a deal of the save, or isn’t that kind of my job as her man. Well the answer to your question is “who the hell cares!”. I saved it, so if I want to grow ridiculous facial hair and jump around like a goomba after doing something you think I’m just “supposed” to do, well then the problem is yours, buddy. I’ll be over here. Celebrating like a mofo!
**God bless Mariano Rivera and Joe Nathan.