Poor Rita

On Friday we went to the Comedy Cafe, one of Jon's favorite things to do here. It was a lovely evening (especially as each comedian got drunker as the night went on). At one point the host, who described himself as a "gay Brett Favre," made an announcement to the room that a "crappy, beige Camry with a tape deck and Wisconsin plate --- ---" was about to get towed.

Jon and I looked at each other, embarassed, 'cuz - yup, sounds like us. (No, we don't know our license plate by heart yet.)

And then the host cracks up and says, "Just kidding. That's my piece of crap car." And laughs hysterically.

Only when we left the cafe, what car was sitting directly in front of the door, in clear sight of anyone who may have been hanging out front during the show?

Rita.

Yeah, that was OUR piece of crap car.