I forgot to bring my sneakers

I drove home from S.U. and had one goal: the gym. I packed up, went, and when I got there, I realized, "Crap. I forgot my sneakers."

I thought, "hmmm. Maybe I'll pick up my mom, have her buy me new sneakers, then take her to dinner." I drove to their house.
Maybe we didn't need to go out to dinner. Maybe she could cut me a slice of lasagna. But no one was home.

When two cars are missing at my folks, where could they be? I don't know about mom, but Dad will be at Chubby's, the local cigarette / convenient store / ice cream parlor / video arcade / condom distributor / pizza joint / local bar. Yep. There he was.

We drank a couple beers and I ate Val's famous chicken wings. This turned into the good karma that comes from not grabbing my sneakers before leaving for the gym.

Chubby's. It is a brand of paradise on Caughdenoy Rd in Clay, New York. You should check it out.