So, I'm standing outside of my office this afternoon, smoking a cigarette. There's a PNC Bank in our building, and the entrance is right next to the area where I smoke.
All of a sudden, out of the bank comes Bob, the host of Plastic Forks. And I was going to say hey...besides, I need to talk to him anyway about getting some of my stuff back that I left at the gathering.
But damnit! I couldn't remember his name at the time. And he didn't see me.
Oh well...fortunately, I'm only out a few rolls of film and a poncho.
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