No, I'm not kickin' it with Leroy

So I got tons of stuff to read. Currently I am really enjoying a book called The Omnivore's Dilemma which I'll likely post on a bit later. I also have tons of journals to tear thru. Since I am about to move into my first house, I have begun packing and have decreed that the journals must not go. I also have a stack of the random Sunday New York Times sections which I want to scan before recycling. This may sound odd, but I really am just trying to get my $5 worth. So the last thing I should be doing is reading Dr. Cornelius's blog at 10 pm on a Monday night - yet I did and you'll do yourself a favor to check it out. I nearly destroyed my keyboard after snorting out some milk on it because of the line regarding an old lady recommending crack cocaine for the flu.

Which brings me to a surreal experience on that subject which always makes me laugh because I felt it to be so absurd. So I am with a friend trying to meet up with another friend, and of all places, we're supposed to hook up at Denny's. No, we don't intend to eat at Denny's, but for whatever reason, it made sense at the time to do it this way. So, there we are, at Denny's - something like 3 o'clock in the afternoon and the place is dead. We're standing in the entry area to get out of the cold, and we keep scanning the parking lot for cars bearing our friend. After standing in this strangly quiet diner for a few minutes, we notice some movement. This guy who had been standing at the trunk of his car since before we got there, starts slowly strutting around the building. I know he is heading for us. After all, there are absolutely no customers in the entire place. I'm like a deer in headlights, not sure what is about to go down. Finally, he steps on in, and just stares at me eventually murmuring "you kickin' it with Leroy?"

I am dumbfounded. Who is Leroy? What about me makes this guy think that I am there for him? Here you have me, being me - looking at him, who looks about the exact opposite of me - is it possible that we could have a mutual friend? Alas, I reply "no...man...I'm not sure I even know a Leroy." The guy looks a me a bit longer, nods his head, and then slowly returns to his pervious post. We were so utterly confused, and from that day on we loved joking about that odd day at Denny's. Years later something clued me in to the true meaning of that exchange - guess I must have looked to be suffering the flu.