Gregg Wilson was over my house.  I can’t quite remember why but it was past midnight and we were hungry.  Gregg is one of the few friends I have that’s “In College” and has the budget, clothing and tastes associated with that.  I wanted to do my guerrilla measurement work but Applebees was priced out of Gregg’s range.  We instead opted on purchasing cold cuts to assemble into sandwiches followed by a date with the sandwich press.

At Wawa, I ran into Rick Spross, Gary Spross’s dad, a man I don’t think I’ve seen for about four years and while he’s an optometrist during the day, he looked like a vagrant in his Eagles sweater and non-descript gray took and he struck up conversation.  I proceeded to utter a phrase set with a fantastically high innuendo density.
Rick Spross: So, what’ve you been up to?
Me: Gregg and I were at home in my room dicking around when we got hungry for a meat sandwich of some sort.  Gregg, the hungry cheap bastard didn’t want to go out with anyone else and said he looked horrible so I picked up some hard salami that he could down one we’d heated things up.
Rick Spross: Oh…

I’d try to make a Modern English joke in there about the sandwich toaster but I don’t think it’s worth the effort.