Sometime last year I was at Lolita’s, alone, eating Carne Asada fries. For those of you not in the San Diego crew, this means that I was really hung over, I’d been awake for no more than an hour, and it was around 1:30 in the afternoon. You know, early.
As I’m eating, this huge black man walks toward my table. After a few steps, it’s pretty clear that I’m his target, so I look up from my engrossing task and see the world’s biggest smile…
“I LOVE THAT GAME!”
So let’s not forget how hung over I am. I have no idea what he’s talking about. I totally forgot that I was wearing an Ultimate Spidey shirt from when I worked at Treyarch — it was just the top garment on my clean pile when I rolled out of bed. So naturally there were a few moments of confusion. “Pardon? Do I know you? Game?”
Once it became clear that he was talking about my shirt (“oh! of course! silly me.”), I found out that it was his favourite game on the planet, saved his marriage, all that stuff. My brain was not really ready for this so early in the morning, but I did my best to be pleasant and nod a lot.
It was totally surreal. Kinda neat though. Huge bear of a man. Gave me a hug. Very strange.
Not sure what the moral of the story is, but if he’d been closer to my size I would have given him my shirt. He was pretty cool.
Rock on, man. Now that I think about it, it was a good game. Glad it did some good out there.