Previously unmentioned, Dave is spending the week in Orlando, FL training for his new sales position with a major tire manufacturer. Yesterday evening, three of his coworkers joined him for dinner at a Bahama Breeze just down the road from their hotel. At the end of the dinner, one coworker, B, made the mistake of squirting mouthwash into his hand in the restroom when he was seeking soap. B said that there were cups next to the dispenser, but like most unaware Americans walking the streets, no one expects there to be actual mouthwash to be dispensed in an American restaurant’s restroom. Those sorts of niceties are reserved for Europeans or oak-panelled men’s clubs restrooms, not your neighborhood Bahama Breeze.
After dinner, Dave walks into said Bahama Breeze restroom and after doing his business, he approaches the sink and notices a man talking to a child. The man reaches forward and squirts the mouthwash into his hand. Dave, immediately noticing his mistake, cries out, “Dude! You just dispensed mouthwash into your hand.”
The man turns to look at Dave and asks, “Really? Are you sure?”
Dave responds, “Yeah, man, I’m 100% positive.” Suddenly, it dawns on Dave that he recognizes this man. So, he asks him, “Uhm, would you happen to be Jamie McMurray?” The NASCAR driver. In the Bahama Breeze restroom that has a mouthwash dispenser!
Jamie responds, “Yeah, why?” Now, at this moment, I thought to myself, what OTHER reasons exists for some random stranger to ask you, a famous NASCAR driver, who you are? As if Dave’s answer might be “oh just because I’m good at placing names with strangers” or “I have a long-lost cousin name Jamie McMurray and you looked just like him.”
Dave replies, “Oh, well, I’m just a NASCAR fan, that’s all.”
Jamie, unimpressed it would seem, says, “Oh, that’s cool. Well, man, I gotta run. Hey, by the way, don’t mention this to anyone!” (You know, the haphazardly mistaking the mouthwash for soap bit.)
Well, sorry Jamie, too late.