In retrospect, thinking about the Los Lobos incident (see S.S. post dated 8/10/11: 'Why Rock-stars Wear Pants), I suppose that it was probably fitting that my buddy Mitch's humor had caused me to spew the contents of my mouth onto somebody else, as I had done the same thing to him about 10 years ago.
It was probably the fall of 2001 or 2002 and Mitch Manson and I were at a Vikings/Bears game at the Metrodome in Minneapolis, sitting in my season tickets. It was before the game started...people were filing in, music was blaring, highlights showing on the big screen…excitement was in the air.
We were standing up at our seats with me on the left and Mitch on the right, beers in one hand, 'Dome Dogs' in the other hand, taking in the scene, talking and enjoying our lunch before the noon kickoff. I do not remember exactly what I said, but we were joking around and I must have said something that caught Mitch particularily good while he happened to have a mouthful of hot dog. Suddenly he bursts out laughing and a large, wet chunk of partially chewed up hot dog and bun came flying out of his mouth and landed in the hair of the lady sitting directly in front of us.
I'd had these two sweet aisle seats in section 218 for several years now and I knew this woman. She was a nice woman. A good woman. I liked her. She liked me. I was trying not to laugh out loud and raise suspicion but it was so goddamn funny and horrifying at the same time! Did she hear it hit her? Had she felt it?! Did she sense that this big wet glop of regurgitated mess was now a part of her??! We stared and then both watched in horror when after about 10 seconds she started groping around the back of her head, somehow sensing that something wasn't right. She had shoulder-length dark hair, curly to the point of almost being frizzy. Basically she had 'large' hair and the dog/bun chunk had wedged itself in pretty good, nestled a few inches into her hairdo.
So she starts feeling around the back of her head and I'm frozen in terror, unable to take my eyes off of the glistening mass inbedded in her hair while she groped around. Was she going to find it? Was this really happening?? Suddenly her hand came upon the glob and she stopped moving. Everything was totally still. Time had stopped. Then she slowly started extracting the revolting intruder from her curly hair until it was free and in her hand. My god this is really happening I told myself.
She brought it around to the front of her and took a good look at it. When it sunk in what she was holding in her hand she suddenly whipped around to confront her attacker. She was fuming and her eyes were like daggers as she slowly hissed to Mitch: "Did you just spit this in my hair?!"
This is when things got weird. Mitch was completely frozen. I could see him standing there, she could see him standing there, but it was like he was in a place far, far away. His body was there but 'Mitch' was gone. He was just standing there, staring straight ahead with blank, unseeing eyes...slowly chewing what was left of the hotdog pieces in his mouth, but completely ignoring her.
"Hey! Did you just spit this in my HAIR?!!", she repeated, now lifting her hand up to show him the evidence. Mitch just kept slowly chewing, staring straight ahead, somehow willing his face frozen with no emotion. Her anger was now increasing exponentially as she realized that he was pretending she didn't exist. Her row in front of us was probably a foot below us so he had been staring directly over her head...but now in an effort to press the matter she leaned forward, stood up on her tippy-toes and got right in his face.
"HEY! You spit this in my HAIR!", she yelled.
To his credit, Mitch somehow remained absent, unattached to his body, and did not even flinch. She was now almost eye to eye with him but he just kept staring straight ahead right through her...slowing chewing, with absolutely zero emotion or any perceivable sign that he was aware of what was happening 6 inches in front of his face.
This whole time I was like an observer at a tennis match...head swiveling back and forth from her to him to her again, but with eyes like saucers and my mouth hung open in complete disbelief of what I was seeing.
Finally she realized that Mitch wasn't going to crack so she viciously threw the handful of wet dog to the ground at his feet and whipped around with her back to us now. I finally lost it and fell back and to the left into the aisle. I swivelled around and was bent over in pain while trying to hold all of the laughter, food and beer in my stomach while not spilling anything. After composing myself somewhat, I looked over and realized that Mitch had returned to his body as he gave me a sideways glance with an ever so slight smile and then took another bite of his Dome Dog.
It was over...but not really...the game hadn't even started yet so we had to sit behind this woman for the next 3 hours. The poor lady kept running her hands through her hair every few minutes during that entire time, feeling around for more food.
This was a defining moment in my life...one of several that Mitch has given me over the years. I don't know if I have ever been so amused and horrified at the same time, and I still laugh and cringe whenever I think of that afternoon. Thanks buddy. In the words of a Crispin Glover character: You are my density.
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