I’m going to write about this and then I promise I will never speak of it again.  Done. Fini.

Have you ever had one of those “you had to be there” stories that you just can’t let go?  You repeat it for one audience after another and finally it hits you–after you’ve told it the 54th time, resulting every single time, in you being the only one breathlessly laughing–that your story truly fits in the aforementioned category “you had to be there.” I have such a story.

Twitter was not even amused, suspending my account after I Tweeted about the incident.

So here it is:

Setting: Bob Evans Restaurant

Characters: Four 50-60-something, Dear Lady Friends, meeting for a late breakfast and a Darling, Clean-Cut, Young Man Waiter.

Dear Lady Friend, lifting the coffee carafe toward Clean-Cut, Young Man Waiter: “May we have more pot please?”

Clean-Cut Young Man Waiter: I’m sorry ma’am.  This is Indiana.”

We laughed until our sides hurt, but no one else thinks this is funny and Twitter evidently doesn’t appreciate references to coffee pots and now I’m in trouble there.

So I have made a conscious decision to let this story go.

Fini.