Talking to Jill this past weekend, we realized that it has been more than 10 years since we graduated from college. We met in college those so many years ago.
I checked my email tonight and had a message from a guy that lived on my floor one of my years of college, I think it was my junior year when I lived on the third floor of Bartlett Hall at UNI. He copied a group of guys that either lived near me or were my roommates in college. And that started the memories going.
The guy who sent the email is a funny man, with a dry sarcastic sense of humor and he still likes a good pun. In that, he hasn't changed much from UNI. My second most memorable story with Brenton was after a productive evening of drinking on the Hill (all doors lead to the Hill). The most memorable story involves way too much alcohol, a stop sign, and days of stress to follow; but that is for another time (I don't even think Wife has heard that one). Anyway....
After an evening of light drinking (just one pitcher) we went down to Wolter's Mini Mart to get a beef and bean burrito. The ritual, if you want to call it that, was to drink till closing, go to Wolter's and get a burrito and nuke it there. Then we carried them back to the dorms in a coat pocket, put on some obnoxious music and had our snack before calling it a night. On this particular night, I may have been tired or just plain silly, but I stuffed some condiments into my pocket before staggering back up the Hill. Back in Brenton's room, the group who had brought their snacks hung out and ate. Since there wasn't room for everyone to sit, I stood. As usual, there were bad jokes flinging around like barn swallows at dusk, puns flopping like fish in the boat, and, in general, goofyness. Suddenly, Brenton turns down the music to get everyones attention and says, "Hey, does anyone smell MUSTARD?"
We all expected a joke and we waited for the punchline. "I am serious, I smell MUSTARD and it is strong!"
So far, this wasn't a funny joke so we waited.
I happened to look down and noticed that there was a bright yellow streak of.... something coming out from the bottom of my shoe. The bright streak made a line out from my shoe and across the carpet, up the wall and onto Brenton's flag that he had hanging on the wall. I must have been really tired (drunk) because I couldn't figure out what I was seeing.
About then, Brenton noticed me looking from my shoe to the wall. "Kevin," He said, "Did you step on a packet of MUSTARD?" (remember the condiments?)
And there it was. My shoe print. The yellow splat. The sharp aroma. The evidence was irrefutable. I had accidentally dropped a mustard packet out of my coat pocket onto the floor and stepped on it. It must have been the beer, because at the time, this was very funny in a very stupid way.
You had to be there.