Walking down the street in front of the stadium with my girl, I see a fresh black 6-Series convertible at the valet stand*. I look up, and waiting for the keys, clearly in a rush is The Don himself. Being me, there was only one proper thing to do: Yell out "The Dooooooooooon" from 10ft away and hit him with the salutatory b-boy stance. Mama Garber gave me the "well, I never" face. Don's reply was a a head shake and a "hahaha...New Jersey" and he hopped in the car and took off like he was expecting a riot.
Good times, good times.
* Yes, that's how people roll at RBA...Giants Stadium, it is NOT.
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3 comments:
met dude in south africa after the england game. drunk as fuck leaving the stadium, the 10 day old beard didnt hide him as i shouted from 20 ft away "oh shit don garber!". he smiled and laughed, and then asked to take a picture with us. what the hell? needless to say, all of us were so drunk that the only people to get a good picture of the meeting were his handlers, so he has quality photographic memory of meeting drunken jackasses from minnesota. hell, at least you remember what you said to him, other than pointing him out, i have no clue.
Good Stuff.
Believe me, the only reason I was sober for that encounter was because it was a playoff game. I've been know to have a sip or twelve, but big games are too tense.
yous lucky, tight games get me waaaaasted. so does south african brandy apparently.
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