On the bus ride on the way to the Block party a small group of people were talking about something. I’m not sure what. It’s not important. What is important is that whatever they were talking about resulted in one of the guys saying:

“In all the time I carried around that moist towelette, never did someone shit on me.”

I laughed. Apparently he needed a moist towelette and apparently he no longer carried one on him. Apparently he use to, and apparently, because he never got shit on, he stopped carrying it.

I mean, apparently.

I thought nothing of it. Then I met this guy.

His name is Peter, and that trophy he’s holding is what he won after taking first place in a doughnut eating contest at the Vera stage before Elphaba’s set. Angela Garbes would be proud.

Peter was a nice enough fella. I introduced myself, congratulated him, and asked to take his picture. He kindly obliged and shook my hand. He shook my hand after he used the very same hand to shove something like a half-dozen frosting-covered doughnuts in his mouth.

So now my hand’s all wet and sticky and man… I really need a moist towelette.