No, but I can tell she's going to, I can sense it. We had this terrible phone conversation. I was so nervous before I called, I made up this whole list of things to talk about.
Uh, let's see... [pulls a piece of paper out of his coat pocket and starts reading from it] "I'm very good at going in reverse in my car". "Why isn't Postum a more popular drink?"
Anyway, there was all this tension. I asked her if she wanted to go out to dinner and she said "no, maybe we can get together for lunch." You know what that means.
Lunch is fine at the beginning, then you move on to dinner. You don't go back to lunch, it's like being demoted. I'll never do another crossword puzzle with her again, I know it.
I got nothing to lose! We either break-up which she would do anyways but at least I go out with some dignity, or I completely turn the tables! This is absolutely brilliant!
Unfortunately the immutable laws of physics contradict the whole premise of your account. Allow me to reconstruct this, if I may, for Miss Benes, as I've heard this story a number of times. Newman, Kramer, if you'll indulge me. According to your story, Keith passes you and starts walking up the ramp. Then you say you were struck on the right temple. The spit then proceeds to ricochet off the temple, striking Newman between the third and fourth rib. The spit then came off the rib, turned and hit Newman in the right wrist, causing him to drop his baseball cap. The spit then splashed off the wrist, pauses in mid-air, mind you, makes a left turn, and lands on Newman's left thigh. Now that is one magic loogie!
I'm saying that the spit could not have come from behind, that there had to have been a second spitter, behind the bushes on the gravelly road. If the spitter was behind you as you claim, that would've caused your head to pitch forward.
