On my way home from work tonight, the lovely J-Kerm called me to ask if I wanted to go out to dinner at a local Naperville establishment. J-Kerm, who has a sudden affinity for signing us up for every single e-mail club on the planet, had a coupon for a free entree that expires tomorrow. So off we went. And thank God we did.
When we pulled up to the restaurant, a car pulled up in the spot right next to us, causing J-Kerm to wait to open her car door. Thinking nothing of it, J-Kerm and I walked into the restaurant and were seated. Not three minutes later, the couple in the car next to ours walked in and sat at the table directly behind us. I barely glanced up as they were seated.
About ten minutes later, a middle-aged couple at the restaurant got up from their table and walked up to the table behind ours. The first thing out of the guy’s mouth was, “I’m sorry, but are you Ernie Banks?”
WHAT?!
Not five feet behind me sat Mr. Cub. Ordering the same chicken tortilla soup that I was eating. Getting annoyed by some guy from Cincinnati who had access to arguably the Greatest Cub of All Time, and here are the two things he thought to talk to Ernie about (yes, I eavesdropped):
- The fact that he’d just met Johnny Bench earlier this year, and that Bench was nice. NEATO!
- That’s it’s too bad that things with Ken Griffey, Jr. didn’t work out better with the Reds, because Griffey is a class act.
He had access to HALL OF FAMER ERNIE BANKS, and decided to talk about the Reds. Turd. I immediately texted my mother, the biggest Ernie Banks fan I know. I’m pretty sure my mom would have come out to Naperville if she thought Ernie would still be there by the time she arrived. She told me to try to get an autograph or a picture, but I didn’t to seem like a simp (even though I had a Wrigley Field pen in my pocket). I also texted Mike D. It went like this:
KERM: Ernie Banks is sitting right behind me.
HUEY: Where are you?
KERM: REDACTED
HUEY: Are you sure it’s not Ronnie Woo-Woo?
KERM: Ha! Should I follow him home?
HUEY: You should. In fact, you should agitate him and, when he takes a swing at you, take a pic and put it on HJE. THAT’S how you build a readership!
KERM: Ernie Banks just punched me in the face!
Despite Mike D.’s advice, we didn’t want to annoy him, and we didn’t want to grovel. So, we did the first thing that we could think of.
We bought him booze.
We bought Ernie a bottle of wine, for which he was very grateful. I texted Huey, “I just bought him a bottle of wine. Now, I just need to ‘dine’ him.” After we dawdled for long enough for Ernie to finish his dinner, we got up to leave. Ernie thanked us again, and I took the opportunity to shake Mr. Cub’s hand. Firm grip. Could still out-hit Joey Gathright by at least 100 points.
We ended up talking to Ernie for a good five minutes, and he couldn’t have been more friendly. He asked how J-Kerm and I met, what we did for a living, where we went to school, and the capper…whether we wanted him to renew our vows at Wrigley Field. Yes, Ernie Banks apparently just became a minister, and just got permission to marry people at Wrigley Field. “Let’s go right now, Ernie,” I said. And I would have.
Ernie asked all sorts of questions about my job, and finally asked for my business card. I checked my pockets. I checked my wallet. I cursed my luck, as there wasn’t a business card to be found. And that’s when I remembered why I married J-Kerm, as she whipped one of my cards out of her purse and handed it to Ernie Banks. I’m sure he’ll throw it away the next time he sees it, but as of right now, Ernie Banks is carrying my business card. Awesome.
Shoot me an e-mail if you need anything, Ernie.
