"That's Typing" Tuesday, in which I share unpolished, unpublished writings from my vast store of unpolished, unpublished writings. On Tuesdays.
From an exchange of comments with my fellow blogger Thingy over at Pondering Life:
You ever wonder if we (or any of our fellow blogger pals) actually met at a party what we'd think of each other, at least before the conversation got around to mentioning "Yeah, I blog under the name Mythical Monkey."
"You're the Mythical Monkey? I could have sworn you were the ghost of Cary Grant!"
Which reminds me of the time my brother wound up at wedding reception at a table with Joe Biden.
This was back about sixteen years ago. Steph—my brother's wife—was one of the bridesmaids in a wedding at the DuPont Country Club in Delaware. The ceremony was over and the reception was just getting going when in walked Biden and his wife.
"He looked like a movie star," my brother said—perfect teeth, perfect tan and a tuxedo that must have been custom made.
My brother just figured, well, it's Delaware, it's the DuPont Country Club, Biden is there for some other reason. But, no, it turns out the groom's father was Biden's college roommate, and the the groom's mother comes over and tells my brother, "Listen, Senator Biden never comes to these sort of events—everyone just want to talk politics."
Well, as my brother said, "It was an open-bar, you know," so who wants to talk politics anyway?
So Biden comes over and he introduces himself and his wife, Jill, first names only. "He sits with us for a couple of hours and is obviously having a great time," with the guys all laughing and carrying on.
Later, my brother and one of his friends went outside to smoke a cigarette.
"Hey, did you hear there's a U.S. senator here somewhere?" my brother's pal said.
And my brother looked at him and said, "Yeah, you've been talking to him for two hours."
"Joe's a senator?!?"