O-H-I-O You An Explanation

For whatever reason, every time I visit my brother in Dayton I end up demanding a trip to the local Waffle House. There aren’t any in my neck of the woods. Although it cannot be considered top tier cuisine, I need to have my semi-annual dose of those hash browns with all the random crap on them. Without fail, it is always a painful experience. This time around, I had almost reached my breaking point. Our booth was in the middle of the restaurant right next where they prepare the bubbling pots of grits. The ‘chef’ was working diligently on my scattered, smothered, chunked and topped hash browns with intermittent spittoon breaks. I was growing more agitated by the second. I was immersed in adding my fourth sweet n low to my coffee in an attempt to mask the taste of Valvoline and Lucky Strikes…. when I caught something out of the corner of my eye.

I am, by nature, a people watcher. I love creating back-stories for all of the characters I encounter in day to day life. A family of misfits walked in and squatted in the booth directly across from us. It wasn’t the fact that they were already sitting in the booth before the waitress had a chance to remove the last mutant patrons’ dirty plates that got my attention. It was the apparel. The dad was wearing a red Ohio State Hoody that was just short enough to allow an unobstructed view of his plumber’s crack. At first glance, I was pretty certain that the thing with him was a dude who had been cursed with an unfortunate set of man cans. It was wearing a Michigan sweatshirt. When the maize monster spoke, I was taken aback that it was in fact a ‘she’. So…now my wheels start turning and I’m trying to determine how this college sports rivalry played out in this household. Naturally, my first thought was the old Alma Mater tribute. That thought was quickly dismissed as the gang of geniuses passed around the maple syrup in a futile attempt to open it. It was as if it were the Rubik’s Cube of condiment dispensers. For the record, they never did solve the puzzle. Then Maizeilla removes all collegiate probability by uttering the sentence, “I seen Bobby at Wal-Mart”.

The next likely scenario is geography. Perhaps the maizeopotomus was actually from Michigan. It’s completely possible that there’s a double-wide outside of Ann Arbor that’s missing its matriarch. I’m not sure why that’s disturbing to me. I live in Ohio and will freely admit that I’ve had more than one drunken night singing “Hang On Sloopy” while decked out in an Ohio State shirt or lid. I draw the line at Buckeye necklaces, any type of dangling earrings, face tattoos or red and white socks with a giant ‘O’ on them. I didn’t graduate from Ohio State, nor do I really care all that much about the outcome of most games. I do have enough respect for those who do care NOT to wear a Michigan shirt. I also married someone who had the distinction of being Ohio State alum. I am a firm believer that if I had been a Michigan fan, that would have been a deal breaker. Those freaks are that serious about their team. Sitting across from him in public wearing Michigan colors would have been considered a sign of the Apocalypse. If I would have shown up to watch the Ohio State/Michigan game wearing anything even suggestive of allegiance to Michigan, I would have had a chalk outline around my lifeless corpse by Halftime. I was also privy to the surreal celebration following Ohio State’s National Championship. It was borderline homo-erotic. Grown men were hugging and crying a little as they professed their love for one another and the scarlet and gray. Ahh…Maurice Clarett, you did us proud! Well…you know what I mean. BEFORE the ATF had to intervene and confiscate the AK 47, miscellaneous other weapons, bullet proof vest and open bottle of Grey Goose. I hear he’s rapping on the prison circuit these days.

The only other rational explanation is that this was a Faux Rivalry just to create controversy. Maybe it’s ‘in’ these days to have the dueling team sweatshirts. Dental hygiene is also in, and they didn’t appear to be jumping on that band-wagon. I’m fairly certain that these two trailblazers are the reason behind the need for establishments to post signs on their doors reminding people to wear shoes and shirts. All I know is that the gene puddle I saw at that table actually made me dumber. I went home and did a crossword puzzle to try to recapture some of the brain cells that were left at the restaurant that day. It suddenly became clear to me why Kid Rock went Ape Shit crazy at a Waffle House. I wonder if he was wearing a Michigan shirt at the time…


1 Response to “O-H-I-O You An Explanation”

  1. 1 Kim Pritchard
    August 10, 2009 at 9:35 am

    This is great!!! You leave me stranded to want to know more of this family. How hilarious!!

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About the Broad

A humorous look at dating in your mid-thirties and the other hilarious things that happen around us on a daily basis.

November 2009
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