All-Beef Hot Dogs

After a Decathlete from Granada, Molly, observed that she'd seen me in the same red sweater a lot, I wore a new jacket to the California Decathlon competition the next day. It's sort of a rough-cut collarless piece with cool tattoos on the inside. Not my usual jacket; I tend to wear things which are big, yellow and poofy.

Anyways, yesterday I wore it again for my thesis presentation (where I was definitely underdressed among my very professional public policy peers.) Later I stuck my hand in one of its pockets, only to find an unfamiliar receipt for an all-beef hot dog at the Arrowhead Pond.

The receipt was dated March 2004. Nine months before I even bought the jacket. In fact, I've never been to the Pond--but someone apparently wore my jacket there and spent $3 on ground cow. Maybe his date went badly, so he blamed the jacket and returned it. Good thing there are no mustard stains.

After presenting my thesis, owing to the anti-Centrino properties of green tea, I had to work in the Kennedy School computer cluster. There are two drink machines in the hall outside: one serves soda, the other Dasani water and Minute Maid juices. Both refused to take my dollar bills. The soda one eventually relented, so even though I really wanted water, I decided on the next clearest thing, Sprite, and pressed the appropriate button.

The machine did nothing for a while, then grumbled, and finally dropped out a Coca-Cola.

Darn objects.