Jake Timmerman and I were roommates for a year. It was a good year. We were real, and became brothers. He's not the topic, though. Actually, he's very fortunate to be engaged to a beautiful woman - Erin - and is preparing for a life as a missionary to the kids of Compton.
No, the poor man I speak of is the man we witnessed gnarfing inside his half-empty pitcher of beer tonight at the Horse Brass Pub... Jake and I had decided to get together for a brew and a game of darts. Another good friend, Jaaron, also graced us with his presence. And as I was handing Jaaron the darts, this lumberjack of a man - we're talking over 300 lbs, big suspenders, wearing a jacket to make an Eskimo jealous - leans over the book he's reading, grabs his pitcher, and begins to spew like the fountains in front of the Bellagio! It all made it into the pitcher, and he wiped off his mouth and continued to read... For a minute. His second volley projectiled a good 10 feet - across his lap, book, table, beer, a rug, and the floor. I grabbed some napkins for him to wipe his mouth with, and asked him if he was all right. He grunted, cleaned up some, gathered his belongings, and left.
I wonder if he's okay. A moment at once comical, and yet sad. I hope he isn't too embarrassed to return to the Brass. Seemed like a decent chap!
(And I lost all 4 games we threw tonight)
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