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.