True story.

Back in the very early 80’s, I worked in the operations department of a now-defunct precious metals firm in downtown Phoenix.  One of my normal lunch routines was to pick up one of the best calzones I’ve ever eaten from the deli that used to be located on the southwest corner of Central Avenue and Van Buren.

One particular day, I went through my usual routine of going to the deli and ordering my delicious calzone.  While waiting in line, I heard someone talking about 100 year flood plains and various and sundry engineering data relative to said flood plains.

When I casually glanced over to see what kind of propeller head was chatting up the engineering marvel, I was stunned to see that it wasn’t Einstein carrying on this conversation with a co-worker.  What I did see was an unkept man with a long, scraggly beard, wearing an un-tucked plaid short-sleeved shirt, cut-off shorts and tennis shoes with no socks, eating a slice of pizza.

My curiosity understandably piqued, I decided to sit at an empty table that was next to his table so that I could eavesdrop on this interesting one-sided conversation.  I sat down with my back to the engineering whiz, ready to be educated on the finer points of flood control theory.

What I heard next nearly made me fall out of my chair laughing. 

Just as I got settled into my chair, the intellectual said, “Look there!  Of all the places to sit, that fella had to sit right here next to us.”  I’m not kidding.  He said, “us”.

I’m not going to say that the guy was crazy or anything like that but I was afraid that they were both going to take me outside and rough me up a bit.

Well, wouldn’t you be afraid of that happening?