I remember the barista having a wild, mop of dyed-black hair, vampire-white skin and gothic clothes.
He worked at a local coffee shop called Espresso Royale when I was in college.
One day while I was ordering my coffee, the barista noticed a little, plastic Bambi figurine balancing on his cash register.
He picked it up and inspected it with a disdainful sneer.
"Deer," he said with complete distaste.
With a flick of his wrist, he hurled the offending Bambi over his shoulder.
I watched it roll under a piece of industrial kitchen equipment.
[Oh, no! Someone help Bambi!]For some reason, that barista is now forever associated with Bambi in my head.
The Rooster watched the Bambi movie for the first time the other day.
She was especially interested in the film's ending where first the skunk, then the rabbit and then Bambi all find themselves "twitterpated" by the fairer sex.
When all the animated, animal flirting was over, The Rooster turned to Grandma New York and me and said,
"Next week, when I go to Creighton's Birthday party, do you know what I'm going to do?"
"What Roo?" I asked.
"I'm gonna TWITTERPATE him."
Poor Crey. He's not going to know what hit him.
[Though he may well wish she would get lost under some industrial kitchen equipment!]