I wore a white shirt today. I'm tempting the fates. The surest predictor of whether I will spill food on myself is whether I'm wearing a white shirt or not, with coefficient of determination approaching +0.985. It's almost guaranteed that at some point today, some object--perhaps a ketchup-covered freedom fry, or a meatball--will slip it's bonds and cascade down the front of my shirt. In slow motion, no doubt.
There's nothing I enjoy more than walking around with a stain the size of Delaware on my chest, framed by the crisp whiteness of a brushed-cotton shirt. But to make this fair, I'm taking bets on both the timing of this spillage, and the object(s) which will cause it. Some possible examples I foresee:
- A piece of toast, butter-side down
- The blood of a slain wildebeast
- A hand-sized leaf of lettuce, soaked in French dressing
- Coffee, dripping from my "sealed" thermal mug
- Memphis-style barbecue ribs
- Ketchup from a burst packet fired by the bullies at the table across from me in the cafeteria
- Transmission oil
- Beef lentil soup
And that's all likely before noon. Anyway, the person who can guess both the substance and closest timing will get perpetual mocking rights of yours truly, as well as an expired gift certificate to Chili's. I'll report back later...I don't expect this to take take long.
UPDATE: It's 3:43, and aside from a splash of dressing on my sleeve (I was trying to open one of those child-proof containers) I've been stain free. I've managed to eat and drink things that only clear or white, just in case. The day isn't over yet, and I've got a buffalo wing craving, so I'm hardly out of the woods...
UPDATED UPDATE: The correct answer was chili nachos at 5:45. Brushed my sleeve in it, then spilled a bean near the base of the shirt. You all lose, although I may give a bonus point for "chutney"