deep lunges and unitards

I am sitting in a park in Kensington, Maryland. In the next picinic
table over from me sits a guy I think I know. I think he was friends
with one of my guy friends from college or maybe a room mate. My
inital reaction to seeing him is to say "Hey, did you go to BYU? You
lived in Budge Hall, didn't you? Or was it May Hall?" and then the
"So that means you were friends with Doodleydoo McGum or TickyTacky
Tumbo or GobbleyGook Sparklebuns." and then there'd be a spark of
recognition with the name GobbleyGook Sparklebuns and then he'd
remember me and some random group date we had both been on and he'd be
like "Oh yah--you were the girl who got stuck in the Nutty Putty
caves. Didn't it take 3 tubs of margarine to get you out?" and I
would say he must be mistaken. Did he think I said GoobleuGook
Sparklebuns? I said SpicyGumbo ShinyHiney. And what are these Nutty
Putty Caves he speaks of? No speaka da English. But he insists. "No.
It was you. I remember. You had, like, really long hair, didn't
you?" And that is why I will stay here at my picinc table and mind my
own business. That and he keeps calling to his son over and over and I
just realized I hate the name Keirnan. Or Keernan. Or Keyrnen. Or
Kqueirnin.

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