So I’ve been ransacking the cooler at my local Dunkin’ Donuts a lot lately, looking for just the right novelty bottle. Because I am an emotionally disturbed 44-year-old man, with too much time on my hands, and not much in the way of an actual agenda.
This is what my search efforts recently labored to produce. I plopped it down, looked the girl at the counter directly in the eye, and belted out, “LEEROOOOOOOOOOOOY JENKINS!!!”
She looked at me as though I had just demonstrated severe mental illness, like maybe I had addressed her as “Mom,” or tried to pay for my soda with cotton swabs or something.
Is the joke that old? Is the reference too obscure?
I feel certain she knew I was not simply crooning my own real name. I look and sound so much like a New Yorker that I cannot possibly pass for a “Leroy.” Probably not even a “Jenkins.”
Oh, well. YOU people get me.