John, A Witch,The good doctor, and I

My friend John Baker is one of a kind. When most people have an idea,they quickly assess the old pros and cons. John, he mostly sees the pros and will worry about the cons maybe never. Because of this John has had many adventures. Like the time he had me drop him off on the side of the freeway in California, so he could hitch hike to Las Vegas to see his girlfriend (now wife) for the weekend. I have had the fortune of playing a role in some of these experiences. One such adventure takes me back a few. It was during the NBA finals when the Utah Jazz were playing the Chicago Bulls. My friend John Baker decided that we should be a part of that history. The only problem we had, except for not having tickets, is that we were 20 miles away from Salt Lake City and we were without a car. Normal people would think maybe we could just watch it on a TV. But John wouldn't be John if he settled that easily. We found some broken down bikes in my back yard and off we took to a game. We had no tickets to the game or any air in our tires. as we rode straight up state street it was very noticeable that everyone in the whole state was watching the game due to the lack of traffic, everyone but us. We arrived at the delta center late in the third quarter. They were broadcasting the game across the street on a giant screen. As we looked for a place to sit we happened into pretty much every person we knew, and of course they all offered a belated ride if they had only known. The game was supposedly one of the finest finals games ever. It was the game that Micheal Jordan had the flu and still beat the Jazz. personally I wouldn't know because for most the game I was biking. The game was the least interesting event of the night anyway.

At the end of the game, while following Johns lead, we entered the Delta Center as everyone else was exiting. We started to make our way down to Bill Walton who was calling the game, when I looked up and saw that Julius Erving aka Dr J. was up at the NBC booth. I happened to be wearing my Dr. J 2000 sneakers at the time and thought of how great it would be for him to sign them. As we made it half way to the Doctor, we saw Brian Williams later to be known as Bison Dele doing an interview. I told Brian that I thought he sucked, and he angrily stared up at us. John took the look as a challenge and picked up a paper sign that said "Brick" on it. He then ripped the bottom of the B off so the sign said "prick" and held it up so if Brian were deaf he'd still know how we felt about him. He got the message because he looked like he was about to charge. We did what all people should do after angering a giant, we ran. When we made it to The NBC booth I did get to talk to Dr J, but he wouldn't sign my shoes because of a contract deal or some crap. I was pretty disappointed but I did get to converse with the doctor of dunk.

Again putting myself on cruise control and just following John, we somehow ended up behind the Delta Center where we met then University of Utah coach Rick Majerus. He signed our prick sign without smiling. and waited with us to see the Jazz players. We got tired of waiting and started to leave when Dr. J. made his second appearance. Now feeling bold I told Dr. J. if "I ever get famous I'll give you my autograph " He told me something I've pondered for years. He said "that's good, put a "w" in it" . I asked John "did he just tell me to put a "w" in it?" All John could say is " I think so". After Dr. J's entourage of finely suited men pulled him away from our chat we figured our night was full and started our long journey home. It was only as we exited that someone asked us for credentials to be in the restricted area.

John and I were about half way home when we decided to stop at Wayne's Corner Market. We left our bikes outside and walked in. The cashier quickly told us we shouldn't leave our bikes alone for even a second. We however weren't worried because our bikes were so crappy we were sure we could catch the thieves on foot. When we left the store I had perhaps the most traumatizing experience of my entire life. There was a woman by our bikes, who looked as if she had been smoking the minute she exited the womb. She also had a very loose fitting shirt on with no bra on underneath. I quickly looked away only to have her bring my attention back with the comment "It's colder then a witches tit, I can't catch a cab, and my tits are going to freeze off." At that moment I kind of wish they had frozen off, because my eyes wanted to be burnt out of my scull. She went on to say the word "tit's" about 10 more times. Since then that has been the dirtiest, most offensive word in any vocabulary for me. We finally reached home around 330 in the morning and as I pondered my journey and realized had I just watched the game in the comfort of my home like I planned instead of following John, I sure would have missed out, and I wouldn't be able to tell you what a witches tit looks like.