Thinking Fool

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January 10, 2006

In Honor of His Birthday, My Favorite Papa Fool Story!

In honor of his birthday, I'd like to share my all-time favorite Papa Fool story. Yes, I like this one even more than Papa Fool's interaction with a nasty Little League parent, his recent confrontation with the Vegas cab driver, and his ability to get me my drink before it melts. Without further ado...

Picture it, Pinetop, Arizona, July 1993, 9:00 p.m. Two 15-year-old males enter the Lion’s Den, a local bar/restaurant, which happens to serve amazing cheeseburgers. They want to order cheeseburgers and fries to go. After standing at the edge of the bar for nearly three minutes, the female bartender, a woman who wouldn’t know what a pedicure was if you bought her one, finally acknowledges one of the boys.

Bartender: (Sternly) May I help you, young man?

Thinking Fool: Yes, may I order two cheeseburgers and two orders of fries to go?

Bartender: How old are you two?

Thinking Fool: Fifteen, ma’am.

Bartender: You’re not allowed to be in here at this time of night without an adult.

Thinking Fool: Oh, okay. I’m sorry.

The two young men leave the Lion’s Den and stroll about two hundred feet to a Circle K. For whatever reason, the pay phone is not charging to make local calls, so the Thinking Fool decides to use the yellow pages for the first and last time to track down the number for the Lion’s Den.

Bartender: Lion’s Den, may I help you?

Thinking Fool: Hi, may I please place an order to go?

Bartender: Is this the young man who was just in here?

Thinking Fool: Yes, it is.

Bartender: You can’t come in here, son.

Thinking Fool: I know, ma’am. My mom went to go drop off a movie and is going to be back in five minutes. She’ll be the one who picks up the food.

Bartender: Well, I don’t think so.

Thinking Fool: Fine. Forget it.

Fast forward about an hour. Papa Fool was driving back to Phoenix that evening and called to see how things were going. We told him about our attempt to secure food from the Lion’s Den. He decided it was time to make a call.

Bartender: Lion’s Den, may I help you?

Papa Fool: May I please speak to the manager.

Bartender: Well, Billy’s not here right now. Is there something I can do for ya?

Papa Fool: Ma’am, did two young men come into your establishment tonight to order food and did you refuse them service?

Bartender: Well, yes, but they were underage.

Papa Fool: I see. Did they proceed to make a telephone call to place a to-go order, and did you once again refuse them service?

Bartender: Well, yes, but I thought they were joking.

Papa Fool: Well, ma’am, they weren’t joking and one of those boys happens to be my son. My name is Red Jenkins and I work for the Food and Drug Administration. I want you to tell your owner to get all of his affairs in order because next week, my partner and I are coming up there, and we’re personally closing you down.

Bartender: Well, wait a minute, I-

Papa Fool: Ma’am, don’t argue with me. My name is Red Jenkins. I work for the Food and Drug Administration. Next week, I’m coming up there, and I’m closing you down.

Nothing like making the small-town folks sweat for a few days.

Happy birthday, Papa Fool!

Posted by fool on January 10, 2006 12:00 AM

Comments

Posted by: The Attractive Nuisance at January 10, 2006 05:57 PM

Posted by: (m) at January 11, 2006 01:43 PM

Posted by: s.anderson at January 20, 2006 04:17 PM