John Ashcroft didn't even see me coming.
Actually, I didn't see him coming either, but we almost collided into each other last week on a lonely predawn street corner. He was walking with great pace in the hunched manner of someone who neglected to bring their overcoat on a three-dog October morn. I had just picked up the Express and was trying to negotiate my mitten-ed hands toward the BlogLog in the hope I recognized a familiar site. (What's all this Butterstick rigmarole?)
I looked up in time to see him coming straight at me with his head down. I stiffly stepped aside and wished him a "Good Morning, John." He generically returned the salutation and we continued in opposite directions, waiting for the sun to rise in our private corners of the city.
Though, I'm surprised he didn't remember me from our last encounter. Several years back the G and I went to the Cherrydale Safeway for a late weekend Ben and Jerry's run and noticed a G-man and dark SUV in the parking lot. Ashcroft and his wife(?) were there after similar foodstuffs and we passed in the aisles.
The two non-Ashcrofts huddled trying to come up with a way to approach him. We decided to grab some Zimas and wine coolers and ask him to buy them because we didn't bring our IDs. "Hey Mister, can you get these for us? You can keep all the change. We'll meet you in the parking lot next to the Abandoned Shopping Trolley rack in like 10 minutes."
Alas, it took us about 10 minutes to come up with this scheme and get our ice cream, so by the time we got back from the booze section he was gone. We bought the wine coolers anyway and a delicious Bartles & Jaymes/Phish Food combination was born that night. We call it the Soaring Eagle.
Monday, October 31, 2005
In the Spirit of Life and Liberty and Gospel (Music) According to John.
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4 comments:
you, sir, are a liar. I never drink anything called a "cooler."
Brings back fond memories of occasionally emptying my friend's fridge of his stepmom's wine coolers. That'll teach dad to remarry!
As am official ambassador for the internet, allow me to welcome you back, Nabob.
This is where I wish I could find Kriston's tale of his encounter with Bob Novak. What's the deal, Kriston? Was it lost when you left blogspot? If so, it needs to be rewritten.
Bob Novak nearly ran me over with his car! I have reason to believe it was on purpose.
It makes up for the fact that I nearly committed vehicular manslaughter against Wolf Blitzer because that fool doesn't look both ways when he crossed the street.
i met a dude who punched john ashcroft in the face 30 years ago because he was being an asshole during a basketball game.
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