On Where I Got My Sense of Humor

For those of you that have met my parents, namely my father, you can kind of see where I came from. This post begins with TWO stories about my dad's adventures, not mine. Both of these stories are true - I promise - but I was not present for either of them. Some background information: my parents own a restaurant and my dad works there every day. He is about 6' 2" and not thin, for lack of a better term.

Story 1: Delivery on Presidents' Day Elevator Hilarity.

My dad was delivering an order to an accounting firm located on the 14th floor of a building. After dropping the food off, he got back into the elevator and began his descent. The way he described it to me, very rarely do people ever get on the elevator in this building - at least when he is delivering - so he usually rides it down alone. Anyway, the elevator stopped at floor 12 and two people got on. Then, it stopped on floor 11 and a couple more people got on. The same at floors 10, 9, and 7. After the door closed at 7, the elevator was packed with people. My dad, from the back corner, says out loud "Ok everyone, if someone gets on at the 5th floor, we should all yell SURPRISE as soon as the door opens up." The elevator skips the 6th floor and sure enough, the door opens on the 5th floor. On the other side of the door is a 60-something year old woman wearing a bright yellow rain slicker and hat. The door opens fully. My dad yells "SURPRISE!!!" and jumps into the air in his corner of the elevator. No one else does anything. The poor little woman that had taken two steps into the elevator promptly backs out. The door shuts 5 awkward seconds later and continues to the ground floor. On the way, my dad says to the people in the elevator: "Thanks a lot, guys."

Story 2: The Rainy Day Debacle

Now, New Haven is not known for having especially heavy rain, but from time to time it can really pour. On one of these occasions, my dad was returning from a delivery. The rain had started while he was dropping the food off inside a building and he did not bring an umbrella. He stood in the lobby of the building where he had delivered the food and gazed out into the downpour, wondering how he would be able to get back. Waiting the storm out was not an option because the delivery was right before lunch, which is when the restaurant is the busiest. He looked outside and saw his escape plan - a man with a very large golf umbrella walking down the street. My dad ran outside, through the rain, and joined the gentleman underneath his umbrella. The man was shocked. My dad said "Hey, goin' my way?" The man with the umbrella looked at my dad and then promptly ran away down the street. My dad, upset that he was caught in the rain, ran back to the restaurant.

Those are two stories (two of the many) that I feel really show my roots. You see, my dad has always been someone that does things like this and I thus learned from him how to interact with people. Whether that is a good thing or a bad thing is really for you all to decide.

We watched the Cornell basketball game tonight together. He was excited that, finally, his son cared enough about a sport to yell at the screen when something bad happened. He was also excited that his son could finally drink a beer with him and not have his wife (my mom) yell at him about it. A bittersweet moment, I guess.