Too much email action tonight for a coherent entry - take this flashback, instead.
Several years ago I was having lunch at the small "Teriyaki
7" restaurant in Hermosa Beach, right off The Strand, just
south of the pier. (Watch for the big aka-chochin hanging
ouside the door, blowing around in the sea-breeze, indicating
that it's open - and order your chicken "no skin" - it'll be
fine). A taciturn Japanese guy runs this place, and we
gradually got to know each other since I came in so frequently,
usually in the evenings. <1>
This afternoon when I was lunching, a bunch of surfer dudes were hanging out at an adjacent
table, where I heard this priceless tale:
"So we were going at it pretty heavy, you know? Then all of a sudden she sneezed - and I looked down and there was this huge gob of lung-cheese on my leg. What was I supposed to do?"His chums all guffawed then, but I was trying to be discrete. I kept staring at my book, shuddering as I stifled my own laughter. Then he said what he did do, but in a voice too low for me to hear.