Tuesday, January 8, 2013

On Avoiding Saying Something Trite

Jack was out at the Summit Saloon last night, watching Alabama crush Notre Dame like rampaging water buffaloes mowing through a crowd of underfed Punjabs.

At halftime I hailed a cab for a lift home and left my van overnight.

Mrs Elliott kindly dropped me off downtown to fetch it this morning. Since I still had some time on the meter before the parking police would tag it, I dropped into Sidelines for one of their $5 "Two Eggs Your Way" breakfasts.

The place was close to empty that early in the morning, so I took a seat at the bar.

The bartender asked, "Coffee or Bloody Mary?"

I laughed and asked for coffee.

She poured a cup and passed it over, then offered her hand.

"What's your name?"


"Mine's Jody -- nice to meet you."


Jody, I thought to myself. Funny thing is that the past two times we were at Sidelines to watch a game, I noticed a man and a woman, and the woman looked like a dead ringer for Jody Foster, the actor--making her the winner of Bend's Annual Jody Foster Lookalike Contest.

I thought to mention that fact to the bartender but decided that she's probably heard Jody Foster's name mentioned more than once when she introduces herself, so I shelved the idea and let it rest.

Few minutes later, a fellow sat down a few seats away from me at the bar. The bartender went through the same ritual, introducing herself to the guy.

"Jody," he said. "That's a nice name. I haven't heard that name for a while." He paused to think.

"Jody Foster," he stated.

I am so glad I kept my bazoo shut.

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