THAT SICKENING FEELING

Yesterday afternoon Cindy & I attended the Boilers basketball game in Indy with friends Vince & Lisa. It was a terrible display of basketball by the Boilers and the 'sickening feeling' was evident by all of us Purdue fans.

But we were to have yet another sickening feeling later.

After the debacle, the four of us decided to get out of 'downtown' Indy to get a bite to eat so we headed for the parking garage, found the car, argued over who would pay the parking fees and headed north to Zionsville, where we found Plum's Upper Room. It is a quaint, small, local restaurant upstairs in an old wood floor - rafter ceiling - location. A piano plays in the background for some entertainment but not so dominating you can't talk at your table without yelling.

It was a lengthy meal, not hurried, as we talked, relaxed and commiserated as we enjoyed a nice salad and soup and then awaited the meal. We all chose something different - Lisa...the crawfish without the antenna and eyes - Cindy...the pork loin - Vince...the pizza - and I had the manicotti. Our thought was to share a bite of each meal...among ourselves...but it was all good and we didn't share nuthin'...except some great carrot cake for dessert. We finally asked for the checks to settle up the bill.

That's when the 'sickening feeling' returned.

Vince reached for his money...and found the cash he carried...but he was missing the credit cards that he kept inside the folded cash in his pocket.

'That' feeling hit both him and Lisa as the thought raced through their mind of where those cards might be...is someone charging up items after finding them...the hastle of having to cancel them and then waiting on replacements. We've been there before...and it 'is' a sickening feeling.

The nice evening...the conversation...the good meal...were quickly forgotten. But cool heads prevailed. We traced our path...did he have them when we left the game? YES. When did you last reach in that pocket before trying to pay for the meal? Pause.......when we argued over who'd pay for the parking. Well then...they have to be in the car. We head for the car...open the door...and there they are...on the floorboard...having fallen out, unnoticed, when we pulled up to the parking paybooth.

The panic...the sickening feeling...the relief that it wasn't as bad as we thought it was gonna be.

Ah...panic over. Man that carrot cake was good.


Dan