While waiting to order at Morty’s this evening, Dan, Kate, and I got into a discussion of metabolism, which led to Dan and I explaining what the thyroid is, and, then, naturally, also explaining hyper- and hypothyroidism. (Clearly I spend a lot of time with kids, and intimately know the kinds of things they converse about.)

When the server arrived at the table she waited to start talking til I finished my point, after which I looked up at her, smiled, and said, “We were just explaining endocrine disorders to an eight-year-old”.

Server: “Oh, are you doctors?”

Dan: “Nah, we’re just geeks.”

Server: “Oh, I’m a geek, too! I took science in undergrad.” (Note: she was, of course, a typical young, attractive, blonde, and lycra-clad Morty’s server.)

Melle: “Cool, what beers do you have on tap?”

4 Comments on Can’t swing a dead cat in Waterloo without hitting one…

  1. By “lycra-clad”, I’m assuming there was cleavage all over the place. Tons of cleavage. Like, right there.

    Yeah. Morty’s.

  2. Well, she was doing her best, but anatomically speaking, typically body fat is required for bountiful cleavage, and she had precious little of it.

    Her legs went up about 15 stories before I stopped counting, though…

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