Saturday, February 8, 2014

There's a hole in my jacket

A buddy of mine use to work at a outdoor gear shop. He called me one day and said he could get me a great deal on a Mountain Hardwear rain jacket. I had been needing a new rain jacket, so I took him up on the offer. It came in a size too big, but I liked it.

Shortly after I got the rain jacket, I was in Rocky Mountain National Park. I had driven Trail Ridge Road and stop at the Alpine Visitor Center. It was raining and cool, so I had my new rain jacket on. At the visitor center is the Trail Ridge Cafe, where I picked up a sandwich and coke. Walking out, I passed a museum. Loving museums, I decided to walk in. Noting the "no food, no drinks" sign on the door to the museum, I put the sandwich and coke in a pocket on the inside of my jacket.

The museum was OK, I wouldn't drive Trail Ridge just to see it. Heading back to my car, I remembered my lunch in my pocket. I reached in my jacket, no lunch. I reached into the pocket and put my hand all the way to the bottom, but my hand kept going. My hand kept going until it went out the bottom of the pocket. Turns out it isn't a pocket, but just a random sleeve.

I just went without lunch that day. I tried to put myself in the shoes of the people around me. If I saw someone walking and food started falling out of their jacket, while I wished someone would have told me, I'm pretty sure I would have told the park rangers instead.

I'm not a crook, just a dummy.

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