From tob@cwis.unomaha.edu Fri Apr 30 10:07:26 1993
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Date: Fri, 30 Apr 1993 10:03:02 -0500 (CDT)
From: Tob Wood <tob@cwis.unomaha.edu>
Sender: Tob Wood <tob@cwis.unomaha.edu>
Reply-To: Tob Wood <tob@cwis.unomaha.edu>
Subject: Here's a good one!
To: New Subscribers <cdibble@acsu.buffalo.edu>, gt6877c@prism.gatech.edu,
        umdesch4@ccu.umanitoba.ca, "Dr. Monzay" <monzay@cwis.unomaha.edu>,
        Verbman <tatood1@cwis.unomaha.edu>
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Status: O


Since we're on the subject of my past, and I have been asked to relate
anecdotes from my crazier (if _that's_ possible) years, I thought I'd
tell you about the Condiment Coat.

Ten years ago when I was a sophomore in high school, I had a black jacket
that I wore everyday (this was before the smelly, ragged, old, second-hand
Air Force trenchcoat I wear to this day).  I would never take this coat off
and I often got into altercations with teachers because of it (my French
teacher once sent me to the dean, but that's another story).  This was
the first coat with an inside breast pocket that I ever owned, and I really
liked it.  I thought I was pretty cool (I still do).  This pocket is the
focus of this story.

I filled that pocket with condiment packets from fast food joints, you know,
like ketchup and mustard and stuff.  I had two of everything I could get my
hands on.  I had ketchup, mustard, salt, pepper, sugar, Sweet & Low, two kinds
of taco sauce, malt vinegar, mayo, pickle relish, parmesan cheese, red pepper,
four kinds of salad dressing, barbecue sauce, croutons, saltine crackers, soy
sauce, tsaziki sauce, horseradish, various jams and jellies, Chinese mustard,
and tons of other stuff that I can't remember.  I had it all.

I used to freak people out by sitting near them, and then as I pretended
to look for something in my pockets, I would start to pull out the
condiments slowly, one at a time.  This always got a reaction.  I even used
to do this in the middle of class.  I thought this was a good way to meet
girls.  WRONG!  Still, I enjoyed myself.   The best thing was during the
rare occasions when someone actually needed one of these items.  I would
casually (_very_ casually; I was the King of Casual back then) open my
jacket and remove the requested packet without saying a word.  This usually
caused screaming fits from whoever witnessed the event, but I would remain
silent and expressionless as pandemonium broke out.

Today, as a much more mature adult, I think that this is a brilliant idea.
I'm even thinking about doing it again, only better.  I figure I'll go get
another trenchcoat and sew in a lining that has dozens of individual little
pockets; one for each type of condiment.  I've even started collecting those
packets of stuff again, and if you don't believe me, check the first drawer
on the left in my kitchen.  If you see me wearing a different coat than usual,
you'll know what I'm up to.  And if you really want to be cool, casually
remark that you wished you had some sweet and sour sauce, then watch in awe
filled reverence as I nonchalantly take some out from within my coat and
hand it to you with a blank look on my face.

The Condiment Coat.  What a concept.

Tob
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