Dinner with Ping Pong and Dr. Fro

Tom Stack is one smart cookie, some may even consider him to be a genius. The kid can do a rubik's cube in under two minutes, achieved an astronomical score on the SAT's, and graduated from the University of Virginia. Ever since I first started hanging out with him back in high school, I've always been impressed by his intellectual level, but there was one night in the summer of 2004, when ol' Stacker made a not so intelligent decision.

Tom, Shouldice, and I were sitting around playing FIFA at Shoul's house, when Tom made an announcement to the three of us that he had to suddenly leave for dinner. Assuming he was going home to eat dinner with the parental units, the three of us began verbally harassing the young fellow, in a attempt to get him to play some more FIFA and grab some grub somewhere with us. After our brief argument, Tom informed us that he was actually going to Italian Gardens to meet up with some high school friends. Being that we were only one year removed from high school and attended the same high school as Tom we instantly bombarded him with questions until we got him to reveal who exactly Mr. Stack had a dinner date with on this particular evening. He told us that he was supposed to meet up with the lovely couple known as Ping Pong and Dr. Fro so that the wise trio could discuss their dubious adventures studying in the libraries of prestigious universities. Now, it was approaching dinner time, and Shoul, Shouldice, and I are all big fans of pizza, so we did the only appropriate thing. We invited ourselves along. Tom began by countering with every possible rejection to deter our ways, but to no avail, and eventually he settled for a compromise.

Tom's plan was to drive to Italian Gardens separately, acknowledge the presence of Ping Pong and Dr. Fro, and get seated somewhere in the restaurant. At this point, we were supposed to walk in and hope we got the offer to join them, or at least sit in the near vicinity. What Tom didn't realize is that ten minute drive from Sherwood Avenue to Kenilworth Mall, gave three numskull idiot's an opportunity to develop a plan of attack on how to ruin one's dinner. Ping Pong and Dr. Fro were patiently waiting outside when Tom arrived and within a matter of seconds the trio was sitting down at a table with an outside view. Things couldn't have fallen into play more perfectly. Before the waiter could even greet his table, Shouldice was banging on the window pannel, waving away as he packed a huge handful of dirt into his mouth. Shouldice always had some theory about the amount of protein one gets from eating dirt. A few seconds later we were walking into the restaurant as well and acting super surprised to see Tom out to dinner. I think Ping Pong and Dr. Fro were equally as surprised to realize that we even knew their names, their real names were Jon and Jing Jing, and Jon attended Harvard and I believe Jing Jing went to Cornell or some other Ivy League school. Jon always rocked a white man's afro, throw in his specs, and hence the nickname. To be honest, I don't think we were ever truly invited to join the dinner party, but we sorta forced our way in and the rest is history.

With the refreshments now being served, the conversation began to heat up. Jing Jing and Jon wanted to hear all about how Tom's freshman year was, how his fraternity brothers were, and the overall academic life of a Cavalier freshman. The three began talking about engineering and politics, their futures, and other types of things that came across as flat out bore to the three stooges sitting on the other side of the table. It wasn't long before Shouldice and I began debating on whether or not our fake ID's would work in the restaurant, and telling tall tales about the freshman keg parties we attended. At one point Shouldice started to quiz ol' Dr Fro on the women and the part scene at Harvard and Jing Jing seemed not to pleased. Every time Stack would begin telling a story, we would interrupt and ask him if this is the one where he got hammered at the fraternity party and threw up all over the place. With each winding moment, Stack's face became more and more red and it looked more and more like he was about to rein act an old school Gusher's commercial. Eventually a check was dropped and for some reason Ping Pong and Dr. From had no desire for desert, Shouldice said that was alright with him though because there was plenty more dirt in the garden. We paid our respective parts and soon parted ways. I haven't heard from Ping Pong or Dr. Fro since that evening but I heard through the grapevine that is high school friends that they are married now and good for them, I'm sure their kid will be a brain surgeon or something. As for Stack, I miss the ol' son of a gun, he's off doing things down near Virginia Beach and I know he was on smart person probation for awhile after that dinner, and we do probably owe him an apology for that one, but a chance to dine with Ping Pong and Dr. Fro, well I couldn't turn that opportunity down. Plus, Tom has a hot sister. Well, that has nothing to do it, but Allie is pretty hot, and that seemed relevant.

I came across a Sports Illustrated while at the gym today, and sadly it wasn't the swimsuit issue, but it did have a rather interesting article on a guy named Mark Buehrle. The soft throwing lefty, who was apparently the fourth best pitcher on his junior college team, and was cut from his high school team not once, but twice, just accomplished a pretty impressive feat as he was perfect for 45 batters. Pretty good for a guy who barely reaches 90. To make things more interesting, Buehrle is supposedly quite the avid hunter and redneck, and I'm counting down the days till August 13th when I get to go and take a 2hour course at the Loch Raven Skeet and Trap Center so I can obtain my hunting license. I guess what I'm trying to say, is that guy is definitely invited to my birthday party.