The Meeting….

Chris and Mike were meeting for the first time in almost twenty-five years. They hadn’t spoken in almost a quarter century due to a terrible argument they had that got out of hand. It seems it all started when Mike thought it was weird that so many miniature golf courses were pirate themed. Chris didn’t think it was weird at all and that there was plenty of historical documents linking those swashbuckling thieves of the Caribbean to the sport of trying to putt a ball through a windmill and into the hole.

Chris and Mike are my two best friends. I had set up this meeting in an effort to get them back together. I have always tried to to stay neutral concerning their arguments. I don’t believe there is quite as much historical proof as Chris thinks there is but it is also impossible to ignore the red, blue and yellow golf balls in the background as well as the use of a putter as a cane in the famous Sir Henry Morgan portrait. Two of the characters in the Disney Pirates of the Caribbean ride appear to be playing miniature golf as well.

We had planned to all meet at Grandma Rudi’s for breakfast at 7am. I got there first and grabbed a table. Then Chris arrived and I remember thinking how terrible he looked before realizing that I was catching my own reflection in the window as he walked in from outside. He sat down and immediately asked for four orders of biscuits and sawmill gravy. I thought the order was somewhat strange. Not the amount of the order but that he didn’t wait for Mike and I to order. Chris has always had a penchant for sawmill gravy.

Then Mike arrived. He confidently strolled up to the table like his brother owned the place. Mike is still a strapping fit man although I found his Mountain Dew t-shirt to be slightly too tight for my liking. I tend to wear shirts a size or two bigger than necessary to cover my pear shaped physique. A look I think I pull off very well. Mike declined the chair next to Chris and took one directly across from him.

I tried from the beginning to keep the conversation light, choosing politics and religion as topics but I could nary get a peep out of either. Then just as Chris’s second order of French toast arrived Mike got the ball rolling by mentioning the Tampa Bay Buccaneers. This seemed to have touched a nerve with Chris and the arguing started to escalate. Things were about to get completely out of hand as Mike was actually going to pour blueberry syrup on Chris’s third order of waffles when I just yelled “enough!!” “This is stupid I said. It’s not like Chris called a hotdog a sandwich”.

These words seemed to stun both Chris and Mike as I think they saw how dumb their argument was. Then Mike said, “why would Chris say that?” “A hotdog is a sandwich”. “Yeah it is”, Chris said.

Now I was the one who was floored. How could I be friends with two idiots that think a hotdog is a sandwich?